Worth the Weight
by Weavillain
Summary: Rita finds herself at the unforgiving end of her scale when it reveals that despite her best efforts, she's gained weight. Realizing that she has to change, Rita is dead set on not only improving her health but her whole family's as well...whether they like it or not!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** So, seeing as how I just got finished writing a multi-chapter story that featured an underdeveloped blonde-haired character, I figured that it's about that time that I write _another_ multi-chapter story that featured an underdeveloped blonde-haired character.

Now, you may be thinking that Rita Loud doesn't really count as "underdeveloped" but I disagree. We're this far into the series and we haven't had an episode that's about Rita. Sure, I suppose you could count "A Novel Idea" but really, it's more about Lincoln than her. Also, there doesn't seem to be much to her character other than...well, "level-headed mother". It's quite a shame.

I'm not going to promise that this story will be a _good_ attempt at adding more to her but it's still an attempt, nonetheless.

* * *

Needless to say, Saturdays in the Loud house were notorious for bringing out the apex of chaos, unpredictability, and noise pollution that the family of thirteen, mostly the children, were responsible for inspiring.

Today, at least for the time being, the frenetic mayhem was contained to either two places: the backyard or upstairs.

For the past two hours, one Rita Loud had commandeered the entire living room area for herself and had the wisdom to demand, ahead of time, that no one get in the way while she do so.

The reason? Working out to her heart's content.

Though, if any of Rita's limbs were sentient, able to voice their subjective opinion on their current state of being, they'd assert that they were most certainly _not_ content.

Rita had worked herself to the bone, putting her body through its paces faster and harder than she had ever been used to. The last five-minute lightning round of chasse left the matriarch of the Loud house panting and sprawled on the floor in front of the TV. Though her body ached with exhaustion and her pores were spurting beads of sweat by the second, she summoned the strength to crane her neck up just in time to watch the sprightly, young Jazzercise instructor wave goodbye to the audience and congratulating her viewers for another hard day's work. With that, the hour-long Jazzercise DVD ended, leaving the TV screen a blank void.

With another day of aerobic dance exercising in the books, Rita, slight aches and all, pushed herself off the floor and made her way to the corner of the room to retrieve the yoga mat that she had used for her yoga routine earlier. Though she was prideful with how she hadn't given up at any time of her routine, her perseverance left a price to pay: sweaty workout clothes that clung to her body like a second skin and appendages that pulsed and throbbed with dull pangs of pain, the sensation exacerbated by each step she took and _especially_ exacerbated when she bent over to scoop up the yoga mat.

Rita hissed and groaned as she felt her lower spine twist. She never had it this bad before until she decided to kick up the intensity of her exercising about a week ago when she realized that a certain weight scale had clocked in her last reading at 152 pounds. That didn't sit well with her at all given how she had managed to keep herself within the range of 140 – 145 pounds, an acceptable boundary if she said so herself.

How she had gotten herself _seven_ pounds over that limit escaped her but that didn't matter to her now. What mattered was that when she waltzed into her bedroom, triumphant after a seventh consecutive day of Spartan-like exertion, and the scale revealed a slimmed-down weight, it would all be worth it.

Now, it was time for the moment of truth.

Rita halted her steps when the rank stench of sweat and body odor wafted into her nostrils and made her dry-heave.

Okay, shower first and _then_ the moment of truth.

* * *

' _Much better,'_ Rita thought in a daze as she emerged from out of the bathroom, clad in her bathrobe as steam poured out from behind her and momentarily blanketed her underneath.

Not only did she smell better (lavender and vanilla suited her much better than "eau de sueur") but the warm, relaxing water had done wonders for her body; she no longer felt like her joints were loaded and packed with tension, a condition she'd need to clean up the various messes her kids were sure to leave behind after an entire day of roughhousing and horseplay.

With her dirty clothes and yoga mat tucked underneath her arm, Rita walked down the hallway (which was full of children who were wise enough to freeze in their tracks upon seeing their mother), moseyed down the stairs, and at last, approached her bedroom door.

Expecting nothing peculiar, Rita flung the door open…

Only to be greeted by a lasso that quickly wrapped around her middle and tugged her forcibly forward. She let out a surprised yelp as she was dragged from the doorway, dropping her yoga mat and clothes in the process. Her yanking ended just as abruptly as it started as she softly collided into the embrace of a familiar but very oddly dressed figure.

"Well, howdy there, stranger."

Having found her bearings, Rita looked up and saw who it was that initiated that little stunt. There, holding onto the end of the lasso, that entrapped her, with one arm and wrapping the other arm around her waist was none other than Lynn Sr., who was looking down at her with mischief in his eyes and a smirk that matched the glint just as well.

The Old Western vernacular and twang in which he had just addressed her made sense now that she got a good look at what he was wearing; a standard cowboy costume that included a hat that partially covered his eyes from the slanted brim.

Rita smirked back at him. Apparently, she caught her husband in the middle of one of his… _playful_ _moods_.

"The mayor's heard talk of a rustler that's been swipin' our cattle 'round when nightfall comes creepin' in," Lynn Sr. said, failing to hide the flirty huskiness in his voice, "and you look mighty suspicious. I'mma 'fraid I'll hafta ta bring ya down to the station fer some questionin'."

Shimming herself out the lasso, Rita leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. She would've gone with the act but right now, she wanted to quickly weigh herself before doing much of anything else.

"Alrighty, cowboy," Rita said, "I'll play along. But first, let me go and-"

"Wait a minute."

Rita took heed at Lynn Sr.'s tone, which had dropped back to his normal one. What really threw her for a loop was the trace of…betrayal she picked up in his statement.

Silently looking to him for an explanation, she was greeted with Lynn Sr. folding his arms in a pout and asking, "You've been at it with yoga again, haven't you?"

Rita followed where his eyes were currently trained and saw her yoga mat and clothes laid out in a heap on the floor.

She turned around and looked at Lynn Sr. confusedly, not understanding what the big deal was. Although it was true that she never exactly indulged anyone about the specifics of her exercise routine, she figured that out of all people, her husband would have an inkling about what she'd be up to without her having to fill in the blanks for him.

"Well, yoga and Jazzercise. Y'know, the usual," Rita shrugged. "Why do you ask and more importantly, why do you sound disappointed?"

Lynn Sr.'s pout was magnified with an indignant "hmph".

"Because if you'd have told me, I would've joined you! We could've been yoga buddies again!"

Rita shook her head and sighed exasperatedly. Hadn't she already explained why being "yoga buddies" with him was the absolute last thing that either of them needed?

"Oh no, not after _last_ time. We've been through this, Lynn. It's not happening again," Rita said crossly, glaring at the whining man in front of her.

"Oh, come on, Rita! It was just _one_ time! It's not like it would've happened again! I would've been more prepared and-"

"Nuh-uh. Out of the question. There is _no_ way I'm letting you do yoga again. Last time you tried, you got stuck in the downward dog position and guess who had to drive you down to the chiropractor's office and wait for five hours for you to get readjusted?"

Lynn Sr. feebly offered a shy grin as he pointed at his irritated wife and answered, "You?"

"Yeah. _Me_."

Firmly rooted in conviction, Rita moved away from him to seek what she had been trying to get at earlier. She walked over to her side of the bed, kneeled on the floor, and pulled out her trusty talking electronic scale. Before she got up off the floor to use it, she could feel the displeasure practically radiating from Lynn Sr. and was compelled to address it with a point that she felt was necessary to make.

"Besides, I've been exercising at an advanced stage for the past week. There's no way you would've been able to keep up with me."

"Advanced?" Lynn Sr. asked, fully perplexed. "You've always been fine at intermediate. What motivated you to go with the extra hustle?"

Rita huffed. "For whatever reason, I've been gaining weight lately. No matter how much I've been exercising, the weight just keeps on coming. And before you ask, my diet's been healthy, too. Sure, I'll help myself to the occasional donut or two but it's not like I'm downing entire gallons of ice cream in one sitting."

Immediately, a thought crossed her mind, a recent memory that betrayed the integrity of her declaration of measured, cautious eating. She chuckled weakly before she amended herself.

"Okay, except for the season finale of _Dream Boat_ a month ago.I needed something to cope with for all those sad moments and that tub of chocolate ice cream was calling to me."

She shook the fleeting sense of defeat out of her head before it could take root. It had only been a one-time moment of gluttonous indulgence! That was all! What was a half-gallon of ice cream in the face of all those squat thrusts and calf raises?!

As she placed the scale by her feet, aiming to step on it and unveil the fruits of her labor, the answer to her posed question rang in her head like a bell, _'Nothing, that's what!'_

"But that's all going to change as of now," Rita declared in a promise. "Just you wait, Lynn. Once I step on this scale, it'll show all my hard work paying off."

With nothing left to do but get on with the grand reveal, Rita confidently stepped on the scale, ready to hear the announcement of her new weight. She could hear it now, the proclamation that she now weighed in at a modest-

" _ **155 pounds."**_

Rita blinked. Did…did she hear that right?

…

…

…

Nah, must've been her ears playing tricks on her. Or heck, maybe the scale was just messing with her! Yeah! That had to be it!

"That's funny. I could've sworn that this scale said that I weighed 155 pounds. Who knew scales could have such a sense of humor, am I right?" Rita said to Lynn Sr., who was anxiously observing his wife from a considerably safe distance.

Deciding to go at it again, Rita stepped off the scale and clambered back on, a little hastier this time around. This time, she actually looked at the scale to see the number that flashed on the rectangular screen in coincidence with the number that she was about to hear.

Sure enough, the scale pronounced, _**"155 pounds."**_

Rita's mouth fell open in disbelief. If this scale was to be believed, she had not only made no headway in losing weight but she had done the opposite and gained three pounds!

Sweat began to cake into her brow and her heart thumped erratically in her chest as denial began seeping into her.

Maybe if she…if she stepped on it in a different way, it would spell out her proper weight.

Of course! Why didn't she think of that before?!

Getting off once more, Rita tried to step onto the machine from the right side instead of from behind it like she had done before. That would do the trick.

" _ **155 pounds."**_

O…kay? Maybe from the left side?

" _ **155 pounds."**_

The front?

" _ **155 pounds."**_

Diagonally?!

" _ **155 pou-"**_

"That does it!"

Picking up the scale and lifting it over her head, her face etched in a furious glower all the while, Rita was ready to smash the infernal, downright fibbing scale onto the ground…

But a quick rescue via lasso swiped the device out of her grip. Knowing what had happened, Rita spun and made a dive for Lynn Sr., who was trying his best to hold the scale over his head as Rita tried in vain to jump up and grab it from him.

"Let me at it! Let me at it!" she hissed, her arms desperately dangling upwards at the cause of her distress.

" _Eeeeeeeasy_ , honey," Lynn Sr. said soothingly. "Just take a deep breath and-"

Without warning, Rita made one last huge leap and snatched the scale from Lynn Sr., nearly knocking him down in the process.

' _At last!'_ Rita declared as her fingers firmly gripped the cool metal of the scale.

This would show that stupid scale! This would show anything that dared question her hard work! She didn't work her butt off to slide in the red and she would take control of her destiny…

By destroying an unbiased, objective reflection of the cold hard facts.

Her madness was infested by that moment of clarity and with a heaving sigh, she dropped the scale down, ignoring the awkward way it bounced on the floor as it threatened to crack from the impact.

"What's the point, Lynn? It's not the scale..."

Rita sluggishly shuffled over to her bed and flopped on it on her side. She felt herself sinking into the mattress around the same time she felt her heart sink from the overbearing disappointment that infected her from her soles to her crown.

"It's _me_. I'm the fatty who can't lose weight."

Moved by empathy and the belief that she was being too hard on herself, Lynn Sr. walked over and sat on the edge of the bed.

He looked down at his wife and smiled, "Rita, come on. Don't be so hard on yourself. You look good for a woman of your age. Scratch that, you look good for a woman of _any_ age. So what if you're a couple of pounds on the heavier side? You shouldn't let that stop you from feeling beautiful."

Rita could tell he was truly speaking from the heart when he said that. Being married to the man for so long made her adept at deciphering his truth from his lies.

But still, he just didn't understand.

"It's not just about beauty, Lynn," Rita said sadly. "I don't want to be complacent. Just because it might be "okay" for someone of my age to not be able to stay in shape that easily, doesn't mean that I want to grow old and grossly overweight."

She flipped over until she was lying on her belly and rested her chin on her hand, now giving her husband her full attention as she gazed at him.

"I can't rest on my laurels. Today, it's a few pounds. Tomorrow, it'll be a few more. And the day after that, I'll be as big as a beach whale."

"That's a pretty big leap, don't you think?" Lynn Sr. said jokingly.

His attempt at amusement only made Rita frown.

"You get the point," she said firmly.

Tense silence followed after that. Lynn Sr. didn't know what to say to cheer his wife up but if he was going to get to the bottom of doing it, he had to know one thing first.

"So…what're you gonna do?"

Rita needed little time to contemplate. The gears had been turning in her head since she laid out her frustrations and woes on the table. She didn't have an idea on the specifics just yet but she knew one thing…

She was going to have to change the way that she lived from now on.

"I have to start cracking down even harder," Rita said determinedly. "I'll have to switch up my diet and work even harder when I exercise."

She couldn't let this temporary failure sidetrack her. She was going to maintain a healthy weight if it killed her. Whatever old habits she thought she could live with, that cost her of pride and health, would have to go out the window.

But as Rita mulled over a new plan of action, she realized an important facet of those habits; often, they would include her entire family, too.

Pizza nights. Ice cream parties. A smorgasbord of snacks for family movie night; they were tying her down and by proxy, her husband and children…were being tied down, too!

Rita frowned at the horrifying discovery. She couldn't improve herself knowing that she sat idly by while her family, namely her children, suffered a fate that would catch up with them when they least expected it.

No, she'd have to implement a better life for them, too! They would grow stronger and healthier as a family and nothing would get in the way of that!

"Lynn?"

Lynn Sr. peered down at Rita and gulped nervously.

That look on her face; the wily-curved eyebrows and wickedly canny grin. It didn't befit someone with good intentions.

"Why don't you let _me_ cook dinner tonight?"

* * *

 **A/N:** Just wanna give you guys a heads up real quick; this story will probably have infrequent updates. I originally planned to have this all done in one long one-shot but I was at a loss as to what I should do with the planned-out structure of the story. Obviously, as you can plainly see, I have the beginning mapped out. I also have a clear vision of the ending but the middle is where things get murky. I'll have to brainstorm what I want to do between this first chapter and the ending so bear with me until then.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** I know, I know. It's been a while. But that's what happens when you have the opposite of writer's block. See, the problem with me is that I have too many ideas and I'm eager to get them going as soon as possible. Therefore, I wind up with so many stories to juggle all at once and I have to try and manage getting them all finished/updated at a reasonable time so I can get going with those other ideas I was talking about. See the dilemma?

Ah well. Let's just forget about all of that and get going with Chapter 2. You've all waited long enough for it, right?

* * *

As the man of the house, Lynn Sr. felt that it was his most important responsibility to keep tabs on the house, making sure that everything was in order and that his family was well taken care of. Of course, he shared that burden of love and liability with his wife but at least he seemed to understand that it was a _shared_ burden.

Apparently, Rita didn't seem to have that opinion if her actions for the past few hours were any indication. Instead of divulging him about what it was that she was planning do with dinner, Rita opted to keep him in the dark, brushing him away with gentle reprimands and insistences that he allow her to work in solitude. Lynn Sr. didn't have much inkling as to what his wife was up to but even with his ignorance, he felt that it had to do with more than just cooking dinner for one lonesome Saturday evening.

His thoughts traced back to that look on Rita's face from earlier when she took over cooking duty; the face of a mad inventor spurred to pursue a rash experiment that promised causalities to anyone or anything within the crosshairs. It made him shiver every time he dwelled on the image for longer than half a second and with nothing else to do but wait for Rita to finish her work, Lynn Sr. was left with nothing more to do but sit around and tremble under the icy chill of premonition that trickled his spine as the day ticked on by.

* * *

By the time the clock struck six that evening, Rita finally allowed her husband to participate in _something_ ; calling the kids down to eat in the dining room. It wasn't much but Lynn Sr. wasn't going to turn his nose up at being involved, especially since he was sure to find out what Rita was literally cooking up for the past few hours or so.

Once he reached the top step, he did as he was instructed and called out loudly for his children to come downstairs for dinner. Upon sitting down at the head of the table, Lynn Sr. couldn't help but chew his bottom lip worriedly as he waited for his eleven children to meet him. He knew they'd all be expecting pizza today and chances were, they'd be pressing him for answers that he couldn't give him, not unless Rita finally decided to clue him in on what the heck was going on.

However, before he could think to go to the kitchen and ask Rita to do just that, Lynn Sr. froze as eleven footsteps pattered calmly down the steps. He winced at the pattern. Instead of rushing down the stairs, like usual, the synchronization was measured. Guarded. Speculative. They certainly knew that something was amiss.

Soon enough, the family, minus Rita, assembled in the dining room. Some of the children had taken their seats while some of the others stood around, talking amongst themselves.

"Dad, what gives?" Lincoln asked from across the room. "I thought we were having pizza tonight."

At once, the scattered conversations ended and everyone present cast curious glances towards Lynn Sr., who shrank in his seat a little from the sudden rush of attention. He was as blind as his children were yet he was expected to be in the know. He couldn't blame them though it still shamed him that he was out of the loop, as if his input on his wife's ambitions meant nothing.

With nothing else to do but admit to his ignorance, Lynn Sr. explained, "Well, Lincoln, it's like this. See, your mot-"

"Is this some kind of intervention?" Luna interjected nervously. "Because if it is, despite what you might've heard me say, I swear that I was only _thinking_ about getting my tongue pierced."

"No, Luna, this is not an inter… _hey_!" Lynn Sr. glared, having picked up what his daughter had just stated. "What's this I hear about a tongue piercing?!"

"Thinking, Dad! Just thinking!" Luna cried, holding her hands up defensively.

Before Lynn Sr. could give Luna a piece of his mind on the subject, two shrilling voices cried out in anger right next to him. He peered over to his left and the sight of the contention confirmed what his ears had picked up on.

He sighed. Lola and Lana were at it _again_.

"Lana, this is _my_ seat!"

"Nuh-uh! I was here first!"

"I don't care! I'm supposed to be closest to the head of the table!"

"Since when?!"

"Since forever, toad breath!"

"Dream on, sparkle butt!"

"Mud muncher!"

"Tiara twit!"

"Bug brat!"

"Prissy punk!"

The last verbal jab had it done it for Lola and she was about tackle Lana off the chair…until a spray of cold water splashed her in the face, making her recoil as the icy liquid drenched her uncomfortably. Lana received the same treatment, too, though she took the bombardment in better stride than her twin sister.

The perpetrator of the assault was none other than an irritated Lisa, who was holding out a spray bottle of water that she had just used on her older twin sisters.

"Why must the charm of alliteration be tarnished by such trivial quarrels?" she sighed.

While the twins started to gain their bearings again, Lynn Sr. took the opportunity to lead a more docile Lola to find herself another seat since in the spirit of fairness, Lana had gotten there first.

"Thanks for the, uh…assist, Lisa," Lynn Sr. said as he sat himself back down. By now, everyone else had taken a seat around the dining table and were once again, silently needling him to answer for himself with their gazes. "Now then, I'd like to get back to the matter at hand."

"Don't bother, dear. I can take it from here."

Rita walked into the room, a proud smile on her face as she beside her husband. Lynn Sr. noticed a rolled-up sheet of paper in her wife's hand but gave it no other thought as a more immediate, invisible presence wafted into the room, commanding his attention in an instant. Wisps of a foul aroma sifted through the air, prompting everyone (minus Rita, who didn't seem to mind the unpleasant smell) to gag.

"GAH! Why does it smell like a sewer pipe in here?!" Lincoln cried while fanning a hand in front of his nose.

"I was gonna say it reeked like one of Lily's filled diapers," Lori spluttered weakly. "but that definitely works, too."

Lily blew a raspberry at the accusation and gave Lori the stink eye to match her disdain.

"I guess no one really _nose_ what it is," Luan managed to joke, even with her nose pinched. "Get it?"

"Well, it's nice to see that my cooking has been compared to that of raw sewage and dirty diapers," Rita grumbled sarcastically, folding her arms and glancing around at the displeased, agonized faces that greeted her efforts.

"Wait? Cooking? That's what that is?" Lynn Sr. said without thinking.

He clamped a hand over his mouth but it was far too late to take back the remark. He didn't even need to look up to know that he was at the epicenter of one of his wife's signature death glares.

"Yes, dear. _Cooking_."

She waited for her family to not look they were on the cusp of keeling over form the smell (a feat that had taken about five minutes) before she began to explain herself.

"You see, I've…had a bit of an epiphany this morning."

"Strange," Lucy replied. "Usually, you need a circle of candles, some tarot cards, a crystal ball, and an experienced medium with at least three years of dabbling with the occult for an epiphany."

"No, Lucy," Rita chuckled. "It's not one of _those_ epiphanies. See, I've come to realize that I'm just not the same woman I used to be when I was younger. Back then, I could practically eat whatever I wanted, exercise how little I wanted, and still be in good shape."

"I hear that," Lynn Sr. said with a wolfish grin.

"But after finding out that I've gained more weight than I can keep at bay," Rita continued, suppressing a giggle from her husband's frisky banter, "I realize that I can't rest on my laurels anymore. I have to take the initiative and do whatever I can to maintain a healthy lifestyle. But I'm not just doing all of this for my sake, I'm doing it for all of you. If I'm going to live a long time, I want to make sure that my family can do the same."

"Not that I don't appreciate the sentiment and all but what exactly do you mean by 'all of this'?" Luan asked.

Her question was met with nods and low murmurs that expressed her thoughts.

"I'm glad you asked, Luan," Rita chirped, happy that everyone seemed to be enthusiastic about her intentions. "To make things clear, I'm going to have your father read off a course of action that I put together all afternoon."

Once Lynn Sr. received the paper, he didn't bother to unravel it to begin reading. A hunch told him that his wife wasn't quite done with herself just yet.

Sure enough, he was right.

"After hours of research, thinking, and planning," Rita said proudly, "I'm confident in saying that I've discovered the perfect way to ensure that the Louds will become as fit as fiddles in no time and _stay_ that way."

Once Lynn Sr. got a few gentle nudges against his shoulder from Rita, he knew that now was the time to both sate his curiosity and shed light on what he was certain would be a pretty big change for the entire family, what with the way his wife had been going on about her covert plotting.

Hasty hands smoothed out the folded paper, revealing a large, bold, underlined header that Lynn Sr. read dutifully, "' _ **Rita's Rules: The Ultimate Game Plan for Healthy Living'**_."

He cleared his throat, more out of a need for punctuated dramatic ambience than a necessity, before he read off the next line of wording.

"' **Rule #1:** As of now, the Loud family will be required to exercise for at least two hours a day on the weekdays.'"

A chorus of scattered, disgruntled whispers followed that statement and Lynn Sr. knew why. Besides Lynn, none of his children were actively exercising on a regular basis and the prospect of mandatory workouts had little chance of being a welcome change. Still, Lynn Sr. couldn't find fault with the premise. It was a simple enough task that he figured his sedentary children would come around to getting used to eventually.

"' **Rule #2:** At seven o'clock A.M. sharp on every weekend morning, the Loud family will be required to wake up and start their morning with a few rounds of light calisthenics for fifteen minutes, followed by an hour-long jog around town after breakfast. That will be followed up by three hours of moderate exercise in the afternoon."

Lynn Sr. had at least three double takes after reading that. Rule #1 seemed reasonable but Rule #2 seemed to be pushing it just a bit. He couldn't blame the uproar of groaning the new regiment had gotten after that declaration.

The only person, other than Rita, who appeared to take the news in stride was Lynn, who looked around at her discontented siblings with arrogance, personified by her patronizing smirk.

"Hmmph. Buncha sissies," she sneered haughtily. "That's nothing. I practically do most of that stuff already anyways."

Despite their discomfort, however, Lynn Sr. wasn't quick to object or barter with less rigid terms. Although he was unfairly taken out of the loop with this big decision, he knew better than to try and get in the way of his wife's noble intentions. Getting in better shape and living healthier lives _was_ an admirable venture. Even if the new rules were slightly draconian, it was only the first two rules. Surely, the next few rules wouldn't be so demanding.

Once his eyes skimmed over the third rule, his lips parted agape. Beads of a nervous sweat began trickling down his forehead, cooling his slightly heated skin.

He stood corrected. He gulped. He knew a certain eldest daughter who wouldn't take too kindly to the next rule.

"' **Rule #3:** Television time will be restricted to a maximum of one hour a day. This will ensure that there is as little time spent lofting around, in front of distracting pastimes, as possible. This same rule applies to recreational usage of cellphones and computers."

Once again, an outcry of objections rang out and as Lynn Sr. predicted, Lori was the most adamant about letting her ire known. Though it was impressive enough that she was reserved enough to remain in her seat, the way she angrily and noisily chewed on her dinner plate spelt out her scorn perfectly.

Leni's protest carried out the second-loudest, though her demurral was more heartbreaking than indignant.

"But how am I supposed to keep up with my nature documentaries?!" Leni cried, her distressed eyes watering. "There was gonna be this upcoming three-hour long one featuring a family of adorable bunnies!"

Lynn Sr. quickly glanced down at the sheet of paper before Leni's vulnerable demeanor could coax him to stop. He had a duty to do and he'd see it through. Besides, his wife wouldn't have it any other way.

"' **Rule #4:** Any trip out of the house, that's within a three-mile distance, will be trekked with either walking, skateboarding, or bike riding. The only exceptions are school and work, which can be commuted to with Vanzilla. No other modes of transportation are allowed. That means no jetpacks, Lisa.'"

Lisa just rolled her eyes and harrumphed. One of these days, her parental units would come to appreciate her highly effective, highly efficient aerodynamic contraptions. For now, though, she'd listen to her father and hope that no more asinine rules would be implemented. If not, her mother was going to have a date with her brainwashing ray (one she got the device up and running, of course).

"' **Rule #5:** Unlike TV, computers, and cell phones, video games are no longer permitted to be used in this house. They're only a distraction that can influence us to veer off into a path of laziness.'"

Lynn Sr. couldn't help himself and peered over the paper to look at his only son. He knew that rule hurt Lincoln the most and once his eyes caught his aghast, forlorn expression, staring lifelessly into space, he had to hold himself from shedding a tear. Even his sisters seemed to be taken in by their brother's despair.

"Don't mind me," Lincoln droned impassively after several seconds of deafening silence. "I'm just thinking about how my life is over before it barely even began."

"' **Rule #6:** Rita Loud will be responsible for…for…'"

Lynn Sr. stopped, having read ahead and regarded the rest of the sentence with disbelief. Was…was she serious? This had to be a joke, right? It just had to be. He looked up to confirm that hopeful possibility but was greeted by his wife's urging look, instead. Demoralized, Lynn Sr. finished reading the regulation that appeared to be bred from spite.

"'…cooking every meal of this house from now on.'"

A collective series of gasps echoed at the declaration. Lynn Sr. sulked further in his chair, wounded. It was bad enough that he couldn't even be trusted to be let it on this new directive beforehand but to be stripped from one of his most cherished, proud responsibilities? What on Earth was Rita thinking to just kick him to the curb like this?

"But…but Rita? Why?" Lynn Sr. asked, dispirited. "I thought cooking was _my_ job."

He lifted his head when he felt Rita hug him from behind, her head rested on the crook of his shoulder.

"Oh, honey, don't take it like that," she said. "I appreciate all you've done for us over the years but I want to kickstart this new change with the perfect vision and it'll require _my_ hands to steer us towards that path."

Her words only dulled the sting by a slight degree, not enough to help him get over his hurt feelings but just enough to let him lift his head and read off the next rule on the sheet.

"Now, come on. There are a few more rules to go over," Rita said as she pointed to it.

Lynn Sr. nodded. "' **Rule #7:** The following foods are prohibited…'"

With everything that seemed to go wrong, Lynn Sr. couldn't help but look ahead and see just what it was that Rita had banned. He got about a quarter of the way down before he was quivering, agonized mess on the inside. The only thing keeping his inner thoughts quelled was the thought of Rita barking angrily at him if he didn't comply. Still, he definitely knew that Rita was taking things way too far now and in just a few seconds, his children, who obviously agreed with that line of thinking as it was, were going to think doubly so after he got finished with the list.

"'No juice, soda, or any other beverages besides plain water. Flavored water is an exception, though don't expect it too often.'"

Instead of an outburst of angry retorts, silence seeped through his ears. He looked up and saw, to his dismay, the shell-shocked, flabbergasted expressions that his children wore. It was way worse than he thought. They were too taken aback to verbally fight back.

"Umm…"

He tried to swallow down the giant knot in his throat but found his attempts useless. So, with knot and all, he continued with masked trepidation.

"'No more salty, fatty, or sugary foods of any kind. Only fruits, vegetables, whole grains, and legumes will be allowed on a regular basis. Skinless lean white meats and calcium-rich foods will be allowed sparingly; up to a maximum of two servings a week. As for what is absolutely, positively, _not_ allowed…'"

He took a pause, finding the first illegality especially disheartening.

"'No potato chips.'"

Lincoln's left eye twitched.

"'No devil's food cake.'"

Lucy gasped, a genuine one instead of from her signature brand.

"'No smoothies.'"

Leni whimpered.

"'No blueberry pancakes.'"

Lori's plate biting increased in ferocity.

"'No dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets.'"

Lisa felt her spirits die.

"'No meatball subs.'"

Lynn's mouth fell agape.

"'No tea cookies.'"

Lola began to tear up.

"'No frosting-covered animal crackers.'"

Lana started biting her nails frantically as her eyes darted around the room.

"'No banana crème pies.'"

Luan rocked back and forth in her chair, twitching.

"'No bangers and mash.'"

Luna sucked her thumb in a manner that would've given Lily a run for her money on her best day.

"'No candy, no ice cream, no cake, no cookies, no pies, no fried chicken, no popcorn, no donuts, no Burpin' Burger'...'"

Before he could continue, he was offered a moment of reprieve when Rita cut him off.

"Lynn, skip to the last part. It's the most important one. They can brush up on the rest of the restricted foods after dinner."

"O-okay."

Apprehensively, his eyes darted down to the very last food. It was easy to spot since it was encircled in a bright, red circle. It appeared that Rita wanted this particular food to be the most well-known outlawed one.

It also appeared that Rita wanted the children to go ballistic and tear the entire house apart from pillar to post.

"'No…no…'"

He sighed, knowing that his stuttering and stalling wasn't going to make this any easier. It _had_ to be read.

"'No pizza.'"

He braced himself for the imminent outbreak of panic and livid stupor as she shut his eyes and grasped the paper as a flimsy last line of defense against the oncoming torrent.

One second ticked by. Then another. Followed by another. Lynn Sr., though still afraid enough to keep his eyes shut, marveled at the lack of retorts. He thought it'd be way worse than this. Sure, they probably weren't happy about this new development but it looked like they were learning to cope with everything just fine. He'd have to find a way to reward them all for-

" _ **NO PIZZA?!**_ " the Loud children furiously shirked in unison.

' _Spoke too soon! Way too soon!'_ Lynn Sr. thought as he ducked under the table, poking his head up far enough to see the kids glowering at their mother.

Ordinarily, Lynn Sr. would be one to set the record straight with his kids over such defiant behavior but after what they had been subjected to, it was no wonder that they were so livid. He didn't dare to speak out, not even when Lola pointed at her mother and shouted, "Are you kidding us?! This is your idea of healthy living?! Making us live like a bunch of hippies?!"

Rita, unmoving in her resolve, looked down at her husband and asked, "Lynn, please inform our very ill-tempered daughter of Rule #8."

Lynn Sr. felt his self-worth deteriorate even more. Taking up the role as Rita's subservient squire didn't suit his status in the family. No, it only belied his importance by fracturing it not only this task but the expectation that he'd just fall in line without a word of complaint.

But what made it worse was that he was going to do _exactly_ that. Once again, he reminded himself that an angry Rita was a scary, unforgiving Rita.

' _Best do what I'm told,'_ Lynn Sr. thought with the mindset of a timid child afraid to be scolded by his overbearing mother as he read the next rule aloud for all to hear.

"' **Rule #8:** Failure to comply to any of these rules will result in severe consequences.'"

That got the children's collective tempers to simmer to a tempered boil. Whenever their mother administered "severe consequences" for bad behavior, she'd live up to the word "severe". Still, Lori wasn't about to let their lives become ruined without pulling out one last trump card.

"Dad, do something! You _know_ this isn't right!" she cried desperately.

Lynn Sr. stood up from underneath his makeshift bunker, looking down at the floor timidly. He was caught in the middle. He had to choose between sticking up for his children, who along with him, were unexpectedly blasted with a well-meaning but harsh regime or his wife, who had left him wondering what she was up to rather than value his input as a husband and as a father.

The choice was obvious to a man of character. But in that moment, Lynn Sr. only found self-preservation as his number one priority.

"I'm sorry, Lori, but…your mother's right," Lynn Sr. said. "We shouldn't take our health for granted. This is just the way things are going to be from now on."

Lori sat inflexibly and cast her father a disappointed, vexed glance before she turned her head away from him in disgust.

"Thank you, dear," Rita said happily. "I knew you'd understand."

Lynn Sr. didn't react when Rita pecked him on the cheek before she walked into the kitchen, leaving him to sit down and look down at his empty plate. He couldn't think about looking at his children without feeling a wave of shame slice into him, exposing the innards of his yellow belly for all the world to see. He didn't deserve to be called a man, much less a father.

He continued to mope and feel sorry for himself before Rita emerged from the kitchen, holding a silver platter in her hands, which was concealed under a silver-colored dome.

"Now then, as far as dinner goes tonight…" Rita said before uncovering the platter, slightly amplifying the rotten smell that everyone had just learned to get used to.

"Who wants kale, black bean, and collard green salad?!"

The feelings of disgust towards their parents transitioned to disgust at the sight of the dark green, murky, congealed pile of glop that bubbled and slithered as Rita placed it in the middle of the table. When Rita saw no one going for it, she shrugged, helping herself with a few servings on her plate before taking a seat next to her husband.

"No?" she remarked cheekily. "Oh well. More for me."

Just as she was about to take a bite, she added, "Oh, and you all can forget about trying to sneak around to try to get your hands on the forbidden food. I already tossed all that junk food out of here."

Proud of herself for cutting off any chance of rebellion, she asked once more, "Now then, are you sure you don't want to try this salad? It can't be worse than nothing."

As much as the kids and Lynn Sr. resented the idea of having to shovel that mucus-colored slime into their mouths, it was true, it was better than nothing. Edible food, even if it was going to be hard to swallow, beat going to bed hungry. With no choice, the family began to lethargically get out of their chairs as they all stood in line to help themselves to the first of what was sure to be many of Rita's rancid meals.

"That's the spirit!" Rita exclaimed. "Good thing you all chose to get something good in your systems. We all have a bright and early start to our day tomorrow so get to bed as soon as you can after you're done with your meal. I didn't make a rule against staying up late but I promise you that not getting enough sleep will be a habit that will get in the way of you keeping up with the rules concerning exercise, especially first thing in the morning like tomorrow."

She swelled with pride at what she was going to have in store for her family tomorrow. It would a glorious day, full of family bonding and the reassuring knowledge that she, along with her husband and children, would be getting started on the right path of healthy living. What more could she ask for? Even with her optimism and joy, however, she was no fool. She knew her family weren't going to adjust to these changes overnight and with that thought in mind, she felt it important to stress, "You may not like these rules at first but what's a few sacrifices for a fit lifestyle, am I right or am I right?"

Lynn Sr. groaned quietly under his breath as he sat himself back down with his dinner. Not only did Rita not care to approach her ambitions with his consultation or any consideration for anything other than what _she_ wanted, she didn't even appear to have the tact to consider that there was a chance that she was in the wrong in any regard. Now, he knew that even if he had the spine to speak up against his wife, it'd be difficult to convince a stubborn, convicted Rita to ease up a little.

With nothing else to do but obediently begin eating his meal, Lynn Sr. scooped up a modest fraction of his salad and slipped the sinewy, bleak strings of steamed vegetable medley into his mouth.

Keeping the mixture in his mouth was hard enough but swallowing it was an even more laborious undertaking.

Still, it was a less difficult than the hard pill of realization that he had to swallow; the realization that the following days were going to be a living nightmare.

* * *

 **A/N:** Just wanna remind all of you that I'm going to be updating this story in frequently so chances are, you might not see a new chapter until another month or so. By the way, I made a little nod to Rakanadyo's _"Loud Legends"_ with that blueberry pancakes line. Why? Well, why not? It's a good story. Don't give me a hard time about it, okay? :T


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** There's really no way of going about the elephant in the room if it isn't talking about it. Well, what is the pachyderm that I speak of? The fact that this story has a very, very, very similar feel to the episode "Health Kicked". Needless to say, I ran into some issues with this story's writing because a lot of what that episode covered were bullet points I was going to bring up in this fic. Thus, I had to make considerable changes to how the rest of the story was going to play out.

I suppose I should be "honored" to have gotten a head start on a premise that the show had yet to announce by the time of the first chapter, but the long gap between this chapter and the last one should be telling of the amount of time I tried so gosh darn hard to not make this "Health Kicked V2". I think I might've succeeded…for the most part, anyway.

I guess there's nothing left for you to do but to read this for yourself and see if that success is truly there.

* * *

The Loud residence was rarely a noiseless house, and this Sunday morning was no exception to the rule. But, instead of the sound of hyperactive children meandering throughout the house—jumping on and off furnishings like sugar-crazed howler monkeys, blasting amp-fueled music without a care, or excitably chatting about what adventures their youthful brains had cooked up over the course of the school week—groaning and wailing echoed down the hall as the Loud siblings, after being jarringly broken out of their sleep cycle via air horn, were put through their paces by their mother for fifteen minutes straight with a routine of calisthenics.

"Cruel and unusual" might as well have been Rita's middle name in their minds; they were pretty sure that even prisoners were treated with more dignity and tenderness than this. Even Lynn, the most physically fit of the eleven, couldn't find much reason to be enthusiastic for exercising this early on a Saturday morning.

After the longest fifteen minutes of their lives, they were left to pick themselves up while their mother tended to their breakfast. Even though they all had reason to believe that the food wouldn't be any more pleasant than the staunch beginning of what was sure to be a harsh, long-term exercise regiment, at the moment, sustenance of any kind was the only way to offset both the drowsiness and the hunger that their rough start of the day had inspired.

Only Lily, being a baby and all, was the only one to not be subjected to such a sordid system.

"Can't…go…on," Lola moaned, trudging down the stairs with the lethargy of a zombie.

Following close behind were her equally as nettled siblings, who voiced similar complaints.

"Everything's spinning," Leni grumbled as she marched on wobbly legs, nearly missing a step and tumbling down the stairs.

"Can I go back to sleep now?" Lincoln asked sleepily to no one in particular.

"My hatred for early morning aerobics is only matched by my hatred for bingo," Lucy said before a yawn broke out.

The rest of them were rendered to mere mumbles and groans, but though they couldn't articulate their discomfort with words, they were more than willing to get the message across as painfully obvious as possible to anyone who would receive it…

Especially if the recipient happened to be an irritatingly "chipper" father, who was already waiting for them by the bottom of the staircase with a smile that even eleven sleep-addled children knew was completely artificial.

"Hey, kids!" Lynn Sr. shouted as they slowly approached. "Nice hustle back there! Way to…uh…"

Instead of regarding his praise with any sign of acknowledgement, the ten Loud children just shuffled past him. Lynn Sr. had enough wherewithal to drop the smile once Lana, who was the last person in the worn-out, dining room-bound conga line, had her back turned to him as she followed her siblings to their destination.

Those eyes; hollowed, reddened, and fizzled. Each pair stung worse than the last. Throughout it all, the collage of despondency that greeted him in his wake, he was met with needling pricks and jabs and suddenly, the prospect of his manhood felt like a lie.

What manhood? What responsibility? What authority? Clearly, he chose to have neither of those things. Clearly, he prioritized pleasing his wife, even as she put her own needs ahead of everyone else. Clearly, he was okay with abandoning his post to join the ranks of the subjected, those who had no say on how the house, the one that he was half responsible for building up, was to be run.

And he was. He truly was. It sickened him, slowly corroding at his insides like some rampant disease, but in his deprived sense of justice, there was penance to be had with his submission to his wife; if _they_ were suffering, _he_ would suffer along with them. And to add to the burden of penalty, perhaps more painful than anything else, was the fact that his respect from them would be thrown out the window.

No, _that_ was too merciful. "Would be" implied that it had yet to be lost. His call to "do something" from Lori was met with passive rebuff. He didn't even have the spine to act as if he _could_ so something, as if he were a helpless child that couldn't do anything without his "momma" giving him permission. No way would respect, even a shred of it, be left after that pitiful display.

' _But,'_ he thought as he braved another smile on his walk to the dining room, _'at least they'll be healthier than ever. Can't call myself a total failure from that. And who knows; maybe they'll even get used to all of this.'_

Those same set of guilt-tripping eyes glanced up at him for a brief second as he waltzed in with a chipper attitude on the outside but a sorrowful disposition on the inside.

"Anyway, hope you kids are hungry," Lynn Sr. said as he sat the head of table. "Your mother spent hours on today's breakfast, so make sure you eat it all up."

The children couldn't find with it within themselves to be polite enough to act the least bit excited.

"What's today's grub?" Luan asked, her head resting against her fist while her eyes fought the lure of sleep.

Lana rubbed her eyes before she leaned to her right to whisper to Luna. "If we're lucky, the food might _actually_ be grubs."

"Yeah, I'll have to take a hard pass on that," Luna said lowly. "I'm sure breakfast won't be _that_ bad."

 _The_ epigram of spiraling misfortune, Murphy's law, came bursting forth as Rita emerged from the kitchen, her body language suggesting that her latest creation was going to knock everyone's socks off.

To her credit, it probably would; just not in the way she would expect.

"Alright, everyone, who wants tofu waffles?!"

Compared to the disgruntled wailing from a few minutes ago, the meager fervor that greeted her reveal was a fever pitch.

Lori, in particular, wasn't sure how to approach the announcement. She had heard enough horror stories about tofu to consider it a prime candidate on her "Eat Only as a Last Resort" list, but compared to the sticky, icky, green blob of "blech!" from last night, anything with tofu as a main ingredient didn't sound that bad.

"Tofu waffles?" Lori remarked, watching as her mother began unsheathing her arms from behind her back. "Well, that doesn't sound so-"

She stopped mid-sentence, seeing but not believing the surprise unveiled to her. By the "sound" of the hushed silence, she wasn't the only one who was perturbed.

Instead of a stack of golden-brown waffles, the cooked, crispy batter pouring a dainty, delightful aroma through the room, seven slabs of ghost white, caked monstrosities greeted them as Rita placed her "life's" work in the middle of the dining table, waiting on bated breath for a collection of "ooh's" and "aah's" to compliment a hard morning's work.

Her sunny smile crumbled into a disgruntled frown when a few seconds ticked by, and all she saw were disappointed, uneager looks.

Well, except from her husband. At least _he_ seemed to understand the importance of a balanced breakfast.

"Is there a problem?" Rita asked, her question accompanied with a slight glower.

Lori didn't know to answer until she realized that the question was directed at her.

She donned a pacifying grin. "N-no, it's just…uh…I didn't think you'd _literally_ be making waffle shapes out of tofu."

Lori mentally patted herself on the back for a crisis aversion well done as her mother's proud grin returned.

"Well, I did! Isn't it great?!" she exclaimed. "Protein, calcium, all eight essential amino acids, and iron; all packed in the familiar shapes of waffles without all those pesky sugars and fattening carbs! Man, am I a genius or what?!"

"You, uh, you sure are, honey," Lynn Sr. said with a weak chuckle. "Five stars, Rita. Five stars."

"I know, right?" Rita walked over to him and playfully jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow. "Hey, maybe I should ask your boss if I could show him a thing or two in the kitchen, huh? Huh?"

Her boisterous laughter drowned his feeble chuckles, all while neither parent were paying the children any mind. That lack of attention was the perfect opportunity for Luna to whisper to Luna without her grim message being picked up.

"Never mind. I'll take those grubs, please."

* * *

Water was a godsend. It made washing down the pasty, smelly hunks of inedible slop far easier than normal effort would've done alone. But more than anything, the nourishment felt anything but nourishing. By the time Rita had led her husband and children to the front of their house, her health vigilance was nigh impossible to tolerate with faux vigor.

The only thing that any of the children could take solace in was at least Lily, being a baby and all, was exempt from

"Everyone, listen up," Rita said as she bent down and touched her toes, grunting at the exertion. "Time's a-wastin', so let's get down to the gist of what we're gonna be doing."

She paused to point behind her back, down the street to the house's right. "While I go on a jog that way," Rita explained and pointed in the opposite direction. "Lynn will take the rest of you down the other direction. We'll all meet back here in an hour."

Too tired and subjected to muster anything close to a dissenting retort, the kids acquiesced, some nodding while the others mumbled drowsily. The anomaly among them, Lynn Sr., was the only one "fit" to brown-nose.

"Of course! You can count on me, Rita!" he said dutifully and gave her a salute.

"Wonderful!" Rita chirped and ran up to him to hug him tightly. "Oh, I'm so lucky to have such a supportive husband!"

It was a dull spark, but it was there all the same; pride. Lynn Sr. happily took in the praise, since it meant that he was genuinely lifting someone's spirits. Of course, it came at the cost of being a weak-willed enabler, afraid and unable to put his foot down, but ironically, it was this sensation of self-satisfaction that mollified the sickness in his gut that festered and grew the longer he mulled over how grieved his own children were.

Unclenching the hug, Rita turned towards the path of her designated route. "Alright then, Louds, let's show Royal Woods what a healthy family is all about! Chaaaaaaarge!"

With that, she bounded down the sidewalk in brisk job, waving over her shoulder as her family disappeared from her sights.

* * *

 _ **ONE HOUR LATER…**_

* * *

If tofu was a hard meal to swallow, then the guilt of his acquiescence was nigh impossible to even stay in his mouth without spitting it out, the acidic taste making him nauseous.

Jogging wasn't the _worst_ thing that his children could do on a Sunday morning, but even without much complaint from any of them, Lynn Sr. couldn't help but feel like such a worthless father. With ten surly, groggy children trudging along behind them, groaning all the while, he might as well have been kicked in the stomach for every second they breathed in their current state of discomfort.

But, at least they were close to home now, and with Rita's schedule, that meant that the kids could have some free time to themselves before they'd be exposed to three more hours of strenuous exercise.

Being the first to get to the door, Lynn Sr. was just about to unlock it, but paused just when his key was about to hitch into the tumbler lock.

' _Wait a second. Where's Rita? I thought she was supposed to be meeting us outsi-'_

The door flung open before he could finish his thoughts. There, clad in her pink tracksuit, was his wife.

"Welcome back, everyone!" she announced brightly as the lethargic mob of ten caught up to their father.

"You're here already?" Lynn Sr. asked, the only one alert enough to note the discrepancy between the here and now and the promise that his wife had delivered an hour ago.

She nodded while sporting a cocky smirk. "Yep! I guess I went a little faster than I thought, and I just beat you slugs here!"

She beckoned everyone inside and once her team of "amenable" health enthusiasts lined up in front of the television, she shut the door, and stepped in front of them to address them all at once.

"Okay, so remember, we're committing to three hours of moderate exercise this afternoon, so make sure you finish up as much homework as you can before we all get started. I'll be treating you all to lunch while you do it, so you don't have to worry about coming downstairs to eat."

Then, with a gesture that made her audience perk up in attentiveness, Rita glared a sense of warning through her eyes and stern tone.

"And remember what's forbidden in this house. I took the liberty of making a laminated copy of the rules and hung them on your doors, so you'll have no excuse about forgetting them. I trust that you'll all abide by them?"

In Rita's mind, blank stares and grisly frowns counted as agreement. Or perhaps, the _silence_ did. The kids weren't too sure what it was, but they were too resentful to give a hoot as to figuring it out for themselves.

"Excellent! Glad to see you're all so dedicated!" Rita said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, there's an entire slab of tofu that needs that artisan's touch to make it all work, just like with breakfast!"

Rita raced off to the kitchen, just before her ears could pick up the melody of discontent groans.

* * *

 _ **LATER THAT EVENING…**_

* * *

"Secret sibling meetings" were a sacred tradition; an opportunity to air out one's grievances without the watchful vigilance of parental disapproval to quell any dissent that they would deem "disrespectful".

And by now, as nightfall fell over the neighborhood, eleven residents of 1216 Franklin Avenue decided that enough was enough. Even Lily, who was lucky enough to not be included in either the tasteless meals or grueling workouts so far, was fed up with how affairs in the house had been, and "Rita's Rules" were just a day old.

On top of being drained physically, the new rules severely cut into their precious R&R time; limited cell phone, television, and computer usage was a betrayal of the promise of a weekend reprieve. On top of that, they all soon realized that they might as well have been attached to the house with a ball and chain. Since they were all required to work out at the same time, that meant that they couldn't even leave the house to hang out with friends for long before they were entailed to return at the predetermined time of twelve o'clock.

Tired, hungry, and absolutely fed up with their mother's law, the Loud siblings conspired together in Lori and Leni's room.

"So, do we all agree that this has gone _way_ too far?" Lori asked, as if she even needed to.

She elicited scattered murmurs of approval, ranging from animated to spiritless.

"No kidding," Lucy said. "I never thought I'd hate anything more than early morning aerobics and bingo, but tofu has definitely taken the top spot now."

"I'll say, dude," Luna remarked as she slung an arm around Lisa's shoulders as the pair sat on the edge of Len's bed. "We hate it so much that Lisa and I agreed to make a diss track on it."

"We've done well with the first verse, but now we just need an uncontrived word that rhymes with 'tofu'," Lisa added.

"The tofu's not even that the _worst_ part," Luan grumbled, balling her fists in her lap as her horrid day replayed in her mind. "It's all the exercising that I can't stand."

"Especially the boxercise!" Lola exclaimed.

Lynn snorted. While yes, she was far from pleased with how hardcore the exercising had been so far, even she had to scoff at the notion that the boxercise, which hardly lasted twenty minutes, was as horrible as Lola had made it out to be.

"Oh, come on," Lynn retorted. "The boxercise was hardly that bad. If anything, it was the easiest part of the whole day."

Lola gaped, then scowled. "Yeah, well maybe I wouldn't hate it so much if a certain someone," she shot a dirty look over at her twin as she idly swung her legs over the side of Lori's bed, "didn't swing their arms around like a madman and hit me in the jaw!"

Lana caught her angry gaze well enough, but she wasn't about to feel so guilt-ridden that she'd satisfy Lola's sensibilities, especially since she had already made amends about it hours ago. Besides, she had barely hit her anyway.

"Look, I already said it was an accident," Lana said, shrugging. "What'd you want me to do, punch myself in the face?"

"Yes."

Lana folded her arms and sighed. "Right, I forgot who it was I was asking."

"I'm pretty sure that's 'whom', Lana," Leni said.

The others broke away from the twins' conversation to look at Leni, regarding her statement with marvel. Leni, not knowing what to with being in the center of ten pairs of awestruck gazes, shrunk back defensively and giggled bashfully.

"What? Why's everyone looking at me?"

Sensing the chance for even further derailment of the matter at hand, Lincoln quickly stepped in.

"Look, enough about the boxercise, grammar, and tofu diss tracks. I think we all know what the biggest problem here is."

"You mean _besides_ Mom's health craze?" Lynn asked, feeling as if Lincoln was about to suggest something contrary to what was really important.

Lincoln hesitated to continue, knowing what Lynn was implying and realizing that she had a point.

"Well…okay, the _second_ biggest problem," he admitted. "Dad won't do anything to stop her, even though it's clear that he's not enjoying the new changes that much, either."

"I'll say," Luan remarked, a smile gracing her face for the first time since the day had begun. "I haven't seen anything more whipped since the cream on Lynn's last birthday cake."

Everyone from Lynn's age and up chuckled and snickered at the joke, while the younger children looked on in confusion. Once the brief bout merriment died down, Lincoln continued.

"Well, I don't know what 'whipped' means, but if it means that Dad's not going to do anything to help us, then it looks like we'll just have to deal with this problem on our own."

"But how are we supposed to do that?" Luna asked. "If Mom catches us breaking the rules, we'll be in for it."

Any further comment was left to the wayside as Luna's reminder forced them all to abandon the idea of gung-ho rebellion in favor of brainstorming a strategy with tact and caution in mind.

Silence dominated the room for the next ten minutes, until at last…

"Wait a second!" Lincoln declared, drawing attention from his sisters. "I think I've got the perfect solution to make sure that this health kick of hers is a little more tolerable from now on."

"And that is?" Lori asked skeptically, not believing that her brother had found a solution as quickly as he was suggesting.

"It's a little something that I like to call…" He leaned in conspiratorially for dramatic effect. "…a loophole. Huddle in, guys. Here's what we're gonna be doing."

Immediately, the kids piled in a group huddle, waiting for Lincoln to relay his scheme.

Lincoln, however, had no choice but to comment on Leni's present behavior. Instead of forming a huddle with the rest of her siblings, she crouched down beside Lincoln and secured the boy in a hug while her cheek was pressed against his.

"Uh…Leni, what're you doing?"

"Huddling."

"I said to 'huddle', not to 'cuddle'."

"Oooooooooooooh."

…

…

…

"Can we cuddle anyway?"

* * *

 **A/N:** Sorry if this chapter isn't to anyone's liking. I might be getting a bit rusty, but it wasn't as if my writing's ever been impeccable anyway. I promise that I'll try to get back into the groove of fanfic writing soon, but it's hard to get that spark back when you realize that after nearly a year, you've hardly improved.

But enough about me; I want to hear what you guys thought about this chapter and the direction of the story thus far. Like I've said on my profile, I'll be trying to complete this story by the end of this month, so you won't have to worry about a long break between chapters anymore. Isn't that exciting? :D


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** And we've officially reached a milestone, people. For the first time ever, "Worth the Weight" has been updated…twice in one month! So, if you don't mind, I'mma go give myself a round of applause. You're free to join in…

…or you could read this chapter. That's cool too.

* * *

 _ **THE NEXT DAY…**_

* * *

Bounding down the road was a rickety family van, full of ten elated children. Though they were all happy for the same reason, the only boy among them had other reasons to feel as thrilled as he did.

Surrounded by nine satisfied sisters, Lincoln couldn't have felt better about himself if he tried. If there were two things that made him feel on top of the world, it was a plan of his paying off and making his family happy.

It wasn't _all_ perfect, though. Naturally, he'd feel a bit better if Lucy wasn't relentlessly burping mere inches away from his face, but he knew she couldn't help herself; Burpin' Burger's kids' meals were guaranteed at least one belch per burger bite.

"I gotta say, Lincoln," Lana said before she helped herself to a sip of Lola's coke while she wasn't paying attention, "this plan of yours is really paying off."

"I never thought I'd enjoy the salty, crunchy taste of Burpin' Burger's curly fries ever again," Lynn said and let out a belch that rattled Vanzilla's windows. "Bet none of you can top _that_ one."

"I can't believe Mom didn't think about preventing this ahead of time," Leni said and passed off one of her chicken nuggets to Lisa, who happily munched on it like a chipmunk.

"Well, until she does," Lori said, looking back at her happy siblings through the rear-view mirror, "we're going to be doing this every time I pick you up from school; we drive on down to a fast food restaurant, pig out, and get home. And the best part is, since Mom's rules say that I can't use Vanzilla to bring you guys home, we can keep doing this while she's none the wiser."

"It doesn't help our exercise problem," Luan said between a mouthful of buffalo wings, "but at least it deals with our food problem."

The rest of the ride back home was spent on dining on their "exquisite cuisine", singing the Burpin' Burger jingle, and praising their brother for making all of this possible with his quick thinking. When, at last, Vanzilla pulled into the driveway, everyone made sure that the van was free of any incriminating evidence, their trash was stuffed in their backpacks, stains and crumbs were wiped clean from their person, and their faces held no traces of guilt for their parents to detect.

As the children piled out, one by one, they were surprised to see their mother sitting on the front lawn. But then again, since she was laid out on the grass, her leg bent behind her head, maybe they ought to have expected that, of course, their mother was being a workout-aholic, as was per usual these past few days.

She broke out of her meditative pose when she heard footsteps heading in her direction, and she smiled when she realized who it was.

"Hey, kids. How's it going?" Rita asked, picking herself up off the ground.

Lori gave her siblings a quick wink before she faced her mother.

"Great, Mom!" Lori exclaimed with a chipper pretense. "In fact, we were just about to get started with our homework! That way, we can all be ready to work our butts off with our daily exercise routine in a few hours!"

"Yep! I can't wait to put my nose to the grindstone and go for another round of push-ups!" Lola added.

"And sit-ups!" Luna said.

"And don't forget those lunges!" Luan said and gave her upper left leg a hearty slap. "Rome wasn't built in a day and neither are thighs of steel!"

"And after all that hard work," Lisa said, "what better way to replenish our bodies than with your delectable, highly nutritious, homemade cooking? Mmmmmm, I can just taste all that yummy Cobalamin in your tofu-crafted delicacies."

…

…

" _Riiiiiiight_. What she said," Lucy said.

Perhaps the greasy food had a dulling effect on their collective instincts because none of them had the wherewithal to notice a shift in Rita's facial features; a slight twitch in the upper corner of her toothy smile that would've normally sounded off _several_ alarms.

"Oh, but before you kids go anywhere, can I ask you something?" Rita asked as she stepped in front of the group.

"Sure, Mom. What's up?" Lincoln asked.

The twitch didn't register as a reason for them to panic, but her now-prominent scowl and crossed arms did the trick. Luan gulped before Rita said a word, knowing she and her siblings were in for it.

"The Burpin' Burger you were just at a few minutes ago; did you let the cashier keep the change?"

Their mouths fell open one at a time, though neither sibling was capable of speech beyond stammering. Out of anything they could've expected from their mother the past couple of days, possessing apparent omnipresence was not one of them.

"Um…w-what?" Lynn asked, finally finding her voice.

"I didn't think my question was difficult to understand, but if you want me to repeat myself, I'll gladly do it." Her arms fell to her sides, though her glower was locked in place. "The Burpin' Burger you were just at a few minutes ago; did you let the cashier keep the change?"

Some contemplated heading for the hills, though they realized that that would be an effort in vain; their mother would surely catch them in under a minute.

Others thought to beg for mercy, but through a quick reflection of the past few days, "mercy" was not a virtue that Mother Loud held near and dear to her heart.

Only one, however, thought of a quick surrender.

"We, uh, actually used credit," Leni admitted.

She could sense heated glares boring through her skull, prompting her to roll her eyes at their belief that they somehow had a way out that they she had effectively snuffed out by confessing.

"What? She caught us. Like, might as well be honest about it."

"I'm glad that you _were_ honest with me and believe me," Rita said, "that's the _only_ reason why I'm not punishing all of you severely for this."

Now that he had effectively swapped out their garb for prison orange, the soon to be white-haired inmate had a burning question on his mind—though he was certain that his sisters were relentlessly pestered the same query, given how everything had gone horribly wrong in a way that only some sort of witchcraft could've caused.

"Mom? How exactly did you know where we were?" Lincoln asked.

Her frown subsided in the wake of a proud grin. "Oh, that? You have your sister Lisa to thank for that."

Lisa didn't think it was possible, being the shortest of stature among everyone present, to feel even smaller, but with eleven sets of eyes squarely homed in on her, the feeling came easy. She shrunk back when the heat from Lola's gaze threatened to turn her to cinders on the spot.

"Lisa!?" Lola shouted. "You ratted us out to Mom?!"

"In a manner of speaking, yes," Rita explained calmly before she pulled out a device from the left pocket of her sweatpants.

Lisa gasped. _'No! That couldn't be!'_

"Recently, it came to my attention that a certain four-year-old genius went ahead and planted little tracking chips into every person in this house. That's a hot issue for another day. But, in the meantime, I figured that it'd be the proper way of keeping an eye on all of you while I'm not around to monitor what you're eating."

She put it back in its place and continued where she left off. "Like I said before, I'm not going to punish any of you severely. However, there will be consequences for the stunt that you thought you could get away with.

From now on, if anyone wants to go anywhere in Vanzilla, you'll have to ask me or your father. That means that one of us will be taking you to school and picking you up from school. And if that doesn't work out for you, you'll just have to take the bus. And on top of that, there will be no television at all for the rest of the week for any of you."

"Bu-" Lincoln began to say but flinched back as Rita closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye to stare them down.

"No 'buts'!" Rita yelled, the authoritative demeanor frazzled underneath her brimming fury. "I'm doing this for your own good! You have no idea how lucky you are to have a mother who cares for her children's health like I do!"

No one had the courage to object after that, hoping that their mother would just let them pass without further incident.

Their prayers were answered when Rita moved to the side and pointed at the front door and demanded, "Now, all of you are going to your rooms and _staying_ there until your father comes back. We'll be picking up with our two-hour-long exercise session once he comes back."

No soul was brave enough to muster up even the tiniest of grumbles. Though none of them saw it on their way to the house, Rita had a pleased expression from seeing her children falling in line; every mother needed a go-to plan of action to protect and enforce and after twenty years of marriage and parenting, she had finally found one to call her own.

And she'd preserve it at all costs.

* * *

 _ **LATER THAT EVENING…**_

* * *

Deafening silence greeted Lynn Sr. upon opening the front door. He marveled at the fact, wondering about more than just the cause of the eerie quiet but also where everyone was. Usually, he couldn't walk three steps inside without seeing at least _one_ of the kids up to something, but it might as well have been a ghost town with how empty the living room was.

Shrugging it off as some odd coincidence, Lynn Sr. just closed the door, locked up, and made his way to his bedroom, wanting to forget about his rough day at work.

He couldn't say it enough times if he tried; he loved his new job as co-chef at the Aloha Comrade Hawaiian Russian Fusion Restaurant. There was something supremely satisfying about serving delicious food to hungry patrons, waiting with bated breath as they anticipated _his_ culinary craft.

But now, it was all a nightmare. Lately, he couldn't help but salivate from the sights and smells of all the dishes he whipped up. It had only been a few days since "Rita's Rules" came into effect, but he honestly couldn't remember the last time he ate something even mildly delectable. Because of this, he had to fight the temptation to sneak even a little bite of his dishes, lest he incur the wrath of both his boss and his wife if he were caught.

Of course, since Rita couldn't hover around him like a buzzard while he worked, she had to rely on her "woman's intuition" every time he came back; just a few, probing questions about his workday that Lynn Sr. knew full well he had better answer truthfully—just one slip and he'd find himself in the hot seat and quite possibly, the couch as his new bed for the next several months.

He was so engrossed in his inner thoughts that he found himself walking haphazardly into his bedroom door, his steps guided by memory up until that point. He grumbled a few curses under his breath and gripped the doorknob to turn it.

Surprisingly, it barely budged. He tried again, but he could only jostle it a few nanometers in either direction as his wrist rotated.

"Rita?" Lynn Sr. called out, figuring that she must be in there doing…well, whatever.

Just then, he heard what he could only describe as a loud _thump_ , followed by shuffling across their bedroom carpet, drawing closer and closer to the door until it stopped entirely. _'What the…?'_

"G-Gimme a second, dear!" Rita answered. "I'm, uh, indecent right now!"

Lynn Sr. had to double-take at the idea of his wife wanting him shut out because she was…"indecent". _That_ was always code for "partially naked or in the nude altogether", something that Rita had never been ashamed of being in front of him, especially in the privacy of their own bedroom. Heck, sometimes she'd flaunt it just to tease him.

For goodness sake, they had eleven kids together! There wasn't much about Rita that he hadn't already seen plenty of times before at this point.

Before he could dwell on Rita's odd behavior, the door finally opened and there stood the woman herself, clad in a white T-shirt and blue shorts.

Her dubious smile forced Lynn Sr. to be cautious, believing there to be more than what Rita was suggesting. "What's going on? Is everything alright?"

Immediately, that smile dissolved into a frown. "We need to have a talk, Lynn."

' _Woah. Well, that didn't take long at all,'_ Lynn Sr. thought before he replied with, "Did something happen?"

As they continued to converse, they made their way to the bed but not before Rita made sure to shut the door behind them.

"Oh, it most certainly did," Rita said, her face etched in a sour scowl. "Believe me, you're going to want to hear about this."

Once they both took a seat on the edge of their mattress, Rita told Lynn Sr. everything that she had discovered about their children. As he listened, Lynn Sr.'s face was locked in neutrality, but it was a far different story internally. If he wasn't already on edge with his wife, he certainly was now.

The pre-diet craze Rita would've _never_ condoned one of Lisa's immoral experiments like she had done by using it herself. It was a low that he didn't even need to hear her promise not to stoop to; he just accepted it as a part of who she was.

But…but who was this woman in front of him? Was this truly his wife, waving her hands around with animation as she colorfully conveyed her frustration at her children's…"treachery", as she had put it? All he was hearing; was it truly dedication to a greater cause that he could only pretend to appreciate just as much as she did?

When she was finished with her story, he could only muster up one word to describe the experience, albeit for reasons other than simply being flustered at the rebellion.. "Woah."

"Yeah, I'll say," Rita said and scooted closer to rest her weary head against his shoulder.

He reacted on a desire to comfort and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

"Rita?"

The question slipped out before he could take it back, and he froze up in fear as Rita looked him in his eyes. The pursuit of a compromise _died_ with that look; he had decided that midway through her rant that he would, at the very least, propose an impasse that would please everyone.

But now that he had a good look at her, he was riddled with the pity. Her cheeks had lost color, her eyes were bagged and dull, and a quick inspection of her hair revealed unkempt strands. Suddenly, the idea felt sickening, even disloyal to a degree. Even if he was no longer on an even playing field with her in the authority department, he still felt obligated enough to please.

But even with submission as his M.O., Rita seemed aware enough to answer for the objections that he didn't dare to speak out in the open.

"There's no such thing as 'easing back', Lynn. Not now. The first week of a new dieting and exercising routine is always the hardest. If I 'eased back' now, my rules will never sink in and they'll be worse off than ever. The children may be healthy now, but we want them to _stay_ that way."

Lynn Sr. couldn't help but the find the usage of "we" insulting. Oh sure, it's "we" when she needed it, but it was all about "me" when she wanted to enforce her regiment on everyone else.

He was shoved back in line, to coddle and comfort like a good little boy when Rita continued on.

"It's like the old saying goes, 'Prevention is better than cure.' It takes twenty-one days to form a habit and these new rules of mine are gonna make sure that they're gonna develop new, healthier habits that'll lead to long, prosperous lives. Yes, they may not like them now, but they'll thank me later once they see the benefits."

The revelation left him struck with the beginning of a mutual understanding. No wonder she was in such a tizzy about being on everyone's case. She probably would've eased back when she realized that her watchful eye was no longer necessary, meaning that now, his intervention was even less of a necessity in her eyes.

But before he could even decide if she deserved _that_ much leeway, he found himself with his wife's soft hands clasping the sides of his face.

"We both have to continue being good examples for the children. _Both_ of us, Lynn. We're doing good so far, but neither of us can afford to slip up. That's why I need you to be just as headstrong as I am. I know things are hard now, but they'll get better. Twenty-one, Lynn; that's the magic number we need to reach. We've struggled far longer than three weeks before, and I know our children can do the same."

She drew closer until the tip of her nose bumped against his. Two decades later and it was still enough to make his heart beat faster than normal.

"Please," she begged. "Tell me you're on my side."

"Of course, honey."

His words left him without a second thought, though a "second thought" wasn't cast away entirely—as they basked in each other's arms, Lynn Sr.'s mind drifted to a resolute conclusion, one that he was no longer afraid to even think of considering.

Somehow, some way, he would save everyone, but in this moment, all he wanted was for Rita to be saved from herself.

It felt wrong to lie to her, but it felt worse to lie to himself; a rebel without a cause was certainly better than a conformist without one.

And he just so happened to know ten people who agreed with that sentiment wholeheartedly.

* * *

Surrounded by nine disgruntled sisters, Lincoln couldn't have felt more horrible if he tried.

Well, feeling like his joints and muscles were twisted up like a piece of licorice was also a pain in the…everywhere, but that could be healed with a soothing, warm bath and a good night's rest. Feeling like a failure, who let everyone down, wasn't something he believed he could get over any time soon.

Once again, the Loud siblings found themselves in Lori and Leni's room after a hard day's work of grueling exercise. This time, however, their spirits were crushed along with the aching feeling in their bodies. Instead of coming together to discuss another strategy, this time, all they felt like doing was moping and groaning.

"Okay. It's official. I'm never going to be able to move my legs for at least a whole month," Lola groaned, trying and failing to sit cross-legged on the floor without her sprained muscles flaring up in protest.

"Make it _two_ for me," her older sister grumbled as she laid on her back right next to her.

"Whoever created extreme Pilates is a menace to society," the weary voice of Lori said from her bed.

"Not to mention my calves," Leni complained right next to her.

Up until that point, Lincoln hadn't said a word, opting to just wait for one of his sisters to rightfully, in his mind, call him out for getting them all in a horrible bind. But now, he just wanted to get the chastisement over with, and dragged his worn-out body in the middle of the room to get everyone's attention.

"I'm sorry, everyone. I really thought I could make things better," Lincoln said softly. His head hung low the entire time. "Instead, I just made everything worse."

Expecting a chorus of sarcastic "Way to go's" and "Nice job's", Lincoln stood amid his guilt and shame…

Until he felt an arm wrap around his shoulders. He looked up and to his surprise, realized that it was Luna that initiated the tender embrace, rather than a figment of his imagination creating a comforting feeling to ease his pain.

"It's alright, Linc," Luna rasped tiredly. "At least you tried."

"Yeah, don't beat yourself up," Lynn called out from her spot by the bedroom window. "It's not your fault Mom's gone completely insane."

"It's not as if it was _your_ invention that was used for immoral purposes."

Lincoln, thought grateful for everyone's support, was spurred by his big brother instincts and broke away from Luna to go to Lisa, who was sitting against the closet with her legs up to her chest.

Once he was by her side, Lincoln bent down, picked up a started Lisa—who only struggled for half a second—and held her in his arms. Now that he was feeling better about himself, even if it wasn't much, he refused to let any of his sisters take the fall for what happened.

"Hey, cheer up, Lisa," Lincoln said, nestling his cheek against her brown hair. "You may be a genius, but you aren't a psychic. There's no way you could've predicted Mom pulling that off."

He felt warmer and fuzzier when Lisa returned the hug. Even with the embarrassing amount of "aaw's" he got for the display, he wasn't too concerned with the awkwardness; at least Lisa didn't look like she was down on herself anymore.

"Hey, here's an idea!"

It was rare that Lynn was the one to initiate any sort of plan during their "Secret Sibling Meetings", which only ensured that everyone gave her the floor as they waited for her follow-up.

"Why don't we have Lisa jam the signal on our tracking chips?!" Lynn proposed excitedly, a victorious grin on her face. "Then, one of us can sneak out the house and bring back food for all of us when Mom's not looking!"

"I'm afraid that won't do us any good," Lisa mumbled before anyone could agree with Lynn. "My tracker has impeccable functionality, a fact that I'm sure our mother is fully aware of by now. Any signal interference will tip us off."

Lynn snorted and slumped against the wall in a dejected heap. "Well, so much for _that_."

And just like that, they were back to square one—defeated, hopeless, and without a way out of their mess. They spent the next twenty minutes just moping in silence, waiting for the clock to tick down to where they'd all shuffle off to their rooms and sleep the horrid past few hours away.

Then, they heard knocking.

"It's open," Lori answered without hesitation. It could've been her mother, but as far as they could tell, she never forbade them from spending the evening in each other's rooms. Therefore, they had nothing to fear.

The timid, smiling man who opened the door clearly wasn't their mother, but their collective faces held no relief from that fact. Both mother and father were partners-in-crime, as far as they were concerned.

"Oh. Hello, _father_ ," Lori spat, narrowing her eyes.

Lynn Sr. let the scathing undertone of the remark roll off his back, feeling it wasn't a something worth contending with. Besides, he was far too busy regarding the scene; he only wanted to talk to Lori about…well, they'd all know soon enough.

"You're all here?" Lynn Sr. said. "Oh, that's great. May I come in?"

Lori just reproached his kindly approach with a scowl. "Why, of course. It is _your_ house, after all. Isn't it?"

Again, Lynn Sr. ignored the implication of her comment, let himself in, and ensured that his next words were kept between them after closing the door. "I'm going to cut to the chase. I'm here to help."

A few faces lit up from the conspiratorial statement, but most of them remained guarded in skepticism.

"So…you're gonna just talk to Mom and get her to lay off?" Luna asked, teetering between hope and doubt.

"I…" Lynn Sr.'s face fell, knowing that what he was about to admit wasn't something that they wanted to hear. "I'm sorry, but…I just can't."

He winced as his admittance was met with groans, but Lori's following retort hurt the worst.

"Then, no offense, what good are you?"

It wasn't as if he hadn't been asking that to himself for the past few days, but it still stung knowing that his children could see his worthlessness for themselves, and have the gumption to voice it out in the open without fear of reprimand.

But now, now that he had a fighting chance to kill two birds with one stone—restoring Rita while putting himself in his children's good graces again—newfound vigor coaxed him to relay his plan without a second's delay.

"After our family workout, when I was using my one hour of TV time," Lynn Sr. said, looking around and noticing that only Leni and Lisa seemed attuned to his words, "I came across a commercial for the country fair that's coming to town this Friday and lasting until next Monday. So, I-"

"The county fair?!" Lana squealed excitedly.

Instantly, the gloomy ambience dissipated underneath the squall of excitement that filled the room all at once. If there was anything that could make frowns turn upside down, it was the mention of the annual county fair.

The siblings all took a trip down memory lane, reminiscing on events from last year's family venture to the attraction.

Oh, I love the fair!" Leni said. "Last year, I came in second place in the bobbing for apples competition!"

"Hey, and Lola," Lincoln said, turning to Lola, "didn't you win the ring toss for a month's supply of the country fair's signature funnel cake?"

"How could you forget?" Luan said, quirking up an inquisitive eyebrow. "She wouldn't stop bragging about it for months."

At the mention of her bragging spree, Lola just shrugged.

"Hey, you'd be bragging if you won your family a boatload of the best funnel cake in Michigan."

And so, the next few minutes carried off without a hitch of siblings after sibling bringing up highlights from the fair. This wasn't quite what Lynn Sr. had in mind when he brought the fair up, but he wasn't about to deny his children the chance to feel giddy.

It was only fitting, however, that Lucy, the "Duchess of Darkness", drained the excitement out of the room when she said, her tone more morbid than ever, "It's too bad that we can't go. Mom would probably call it a 'den of temptation' or something."

Just like that, the joy began to deflate like air out of a punctured balloon as they realized that Lucy had a point.

"That's true," Lincoln said as he put Lisa down at her request. "Yeah, with all that great food there, especially that mouth-watering funnel cake, I wouldn't be surprised if she dumped this whole diet routine so she could…"

He stopped stone cold in his tracks when _it_ dawned on him. By the looks on their faces, his sisters picked up on the same thing. Just to be sure, they all looked back at their father, who was sporting a cheeky grin.

"Yeah. I bet she would, wouldn't she?" he asked.

"That's…that's brilliant, Dad!" Luan exclaimed, sending streaks of pride through her father's veins.

"Yeah, dude. Who knew you could be so devious?" Luna remarked with a reverent tone.

"But hold on a sec," Lana asked as she dug her pinky finger up her nose. "So, how're we supposed to get Mom to want to go to the fair?"

Lynn Sr. chuckled. "Just leave that to me, kids. I picked up a thing or two when you all got me to buy a new van."

* * *

 _ **THE NEXT MORNING…**_

* * *

By breakfast time, all the necessary players were in place. Even though the children weren't required to do much of anything, Lynn Sr. still felt like it was appropriate to believe as if they were involved in this. After all, like he had said, it was their subliminal suggesting that had inspired him to ditch Vanzilla for a new pair of wheels. If it could work on him, surely, it have the same effect on Rita.

The table was literally set for Lynn Sr.'s scheme to begin. In front of him was another one of Rita's breakfasts; homemade plain oatmeal. Admittedly, he knew it could've been worse, given what other less than delectable dishes had been presented in front of him, but the thin, soupy gruel hardly looked appetizing.

Still, he knew that by the time he was through with his plan, he, as well as everyone else, be chowing on fairground corn dogs in a matter of a few days.

"Gee, honey," Lynn Sr. said as he dug up a spoonful of oatmeal out of his bowl, "the weather sure is _fair_ today, isn't it?"

Rita gave him a puzzled look. "Why, I guess it is. Why do you ask?"

Lynn Sr. swallowed his bite of food, holding back a grimace, before he replied nonchalantly with, "Oh, no reason. I just thought it wouldn't be _fair_ to start the day without bringing up how wonderful the weather is. That's all."

"O…kay."

Though she didn't seem to take the bait, Lynn Sr. knew better than to panic. He was still confident in himself, so much so that he missed out on Lincoln, Lisa, Lori, and Luna silently gesturing to him to call the whole thing off.

After a few minutes passed, and Lynn Sr. was sure that she was less likely to be on her guard, he tried an approach from a different angle.

"Rita," he drawled flirtatiously, "your skin's looking rather _fair_ this morning."

Like before, Rita regarded his comment with stony indifference. "Is that so?"

"Uh-huh. Just like all the rules you've set for us; _fair_ , _fair_ , _fair_."

Lynn Sr. sat back and watched his wife's face closely, checking for any signs of wariness and knowing. His heart soared when her face suddenly shifted from an apathetic expression…

…into one of delight. Jolting up to her feet, Rita had the entire room focused on her as her bright smile promised a future that was just as bright.

"You know what?" Rita remarked as she looked around at her family with a gleeful timbre. "For some reason, I think…I-I think…"

' _Here it comes,'_ Lynn Sr. thought as he folded his arms and smiled, waiting for what was coming to him.

He soon found out that "what was coming to him" wasn't the same thing as "what he wanted" as Rita spun around and a pointed a finger at him. Her smile was long gone, revealing a dirty look.

"I think I want to know if you really think that I was born yesterday."

* * *

 **A/N:** Just a quick reminder, the next chapter's gonna be the final one. That's a huge relief, if I do say so myself. I mean, I like this story and all, but I like finishing up projects, y'know? It's just the way I is…er, am.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Needless to say, this final chapter came up later than I had promised. I apologize for that. But hopefully, you could survive without me for the two days I was late. :D

* * *

The silence of Lucy's pretend funerals paled in comparison to the brand that fell upon the dining room.

Whether they were stymied, petrified children or an irate housewife demanding answers, all eyes were on Lynn Sr. now as they intently awaited his next move. Unfortunately for Rita's patience, her husband seemed more interested in giving her a blank look than explaining himself.

Gritting her teeth, Rita stood up from her chair, marched towards her trembling husband, and stopped when their distance gave her shadow ample leverage to completely loom over him.

"Don't give me that look," she said. 'Fair'? Just what exactly do you think you're trying to get across to me?"

Lynn Sr.'s eyes shifted everywhere that wasn't blocked by his angry wife, but no matter where he turned, Rita made it her mission to cut him off at the pass. Every second that passed in his futility slowly but surely turned into hopelessness as it dawned on him that Rita was not about to give him an easy way out. With nothing but the truth left to give, Lynn Sr. sighed in defeat.

"I was trying to make it so you'd want to take all of us to the country fair this Friday," he said.

Rita's glare softened at the admittance, though Lynn Sr.'s fear barely ebbed an inch, which is why when Rita replied, "The country fair? That's all?", all he could do was nod.

"Now, why would you want to trick me into taking you there?" Rita asked." "What could be the harm in bringing you there? There's so much fun we could all have; going on all the rides, taking plenty of cute family photos, eating all of the…the…"

And just like that, the violent windstorm, that had petered out into a peaceful gale, whipped up in a blustering tornado. Lynn Sr. gulped, knowing full well that even with the relatively calm expression his wife wore, she was fuming on the inside. Now, it was just a matter of how much restraint Rita was using to keep herself from getting absolutely livid with him…

…and how long it would take before that restraint snapped in two like a brittle, dry twig.

"So, that's it, then." "The finality of her tone, along with the seething temper, made Lynn Sr. wince. "You were trying to make me break my commitment by having me take you all to a place that would tempt me."

She then turned to the kids, who were wise to look away before her heated gaze could melt them on the spot.

"First, my children and now, my own husband. After everything I've done to try and make this family better, this is the thanks I get! If someone's not breaking the rules behind my back, someone else is manipulating me to try and get me to go back on my word."

In a flash, she spun around and faced her husband again, who had his head hung in shame.

"And what's worse, _you_ promised me that you were going to set an example for the kids, but all you've done is teach them that going against their mother is okay."

Every scornful word stung, but what hurt even more was how she was putting him on the spot like this—scolding him like a child.

But who was he to complain? After all, he wasn't going to do anything about it and by the way she was acting, Rita didn't sound like she was interested in giving his authority the time of day, anyway.

"I'm more hurt than ashamed of you, Lynn," Rita continued. "I never wanted things to come to this, but the rules apply for everyone, not just for the kids. From now on, the couch is your bed until further notice."

Everyone else, except a stunned Lynn Sr., gasped collectively. It was almost like a giant weight was keeping them down as no one made a move to object or give chase to an incensed Rita as she stormed out of the dining room in a huff.

Only when the sharp crack of her bedroom door slamming shut did anyone snap out of their stasis. The reactions were immediate; Lynn Sr. hiding his face in his hands, the children all running towards their father to console him. All were there and all were willing to give him the comfort that they couldn't help but believe that he deserved…

…all except for Lisa, who shuffled away from the despondent mass to crawl on the floor, steadily approaching the spot where her mother had just stood before she left.

Now, where was it? To her left? Her right? Perhaps, it was...ah! Eureka!

There, underneath the shadow of her mother's chair, was a wayward crumb. Lisa didn't know _exactly_ what she would find by analyzing the crumb, but a mixture of scientific curiosity and a skepticism spurred her on.

She had an inkling, buried within the confines of her frontal lobe, that something was amiss, and she wouldn't rest until she found out what it was.

* * *

 _ **THREE DAYS LATER…**_

* * *

Lisa wasn't moved by many things, but seeing her father stretched out on the living room couch—a dinky blue blanket draped over him as his limbs bent at awkward angles—nearly made her feel a twinge of sympathy.

But now wasn't the time for emotions. Action was the key to her present motives, which is why she made it her mission to wake up a few minutes before everyone else to speak with him in confidence. This was a delicate matter, and she couldn't allow her discovery to be compromised with too many witnesses…at least, not _now_.

"Father?"

Lynn Sr. merely mumbled drowsily, then groaned as he turned over and caused his elbow to compress under his body weight as it smushed into the cushion underneath him.

Lisa sighed and shook him a little, getting another groan for her efforts.

"Father, I require an audience with you posthaste."

"' _Kaaaaay_."

The genius waited as her father unfolded himself, his visage one of misery and pain as he did. He could only offer Lisa an expression that could only be described as hollow, utterly lacking any of the early morning enthusiasm that everyone knew him for.

"Man, three nights on that couch, and it _still_ hasn't gotten any better," Lynn Sr. complained as he stood, his back creaking out a few pops that made Lisa wince. "My back hasn't felt this twisted-up since the downward dog incident."

"I'll be sure to do something to remedy your musculoskeletal dilemma at a later junction," Lisa said as she headed towards the staircase. "For now, I ask that you please come with me and meet me in my bedroom."

She was pleased when she heard him approaching; at least his _legs_ weren't compromised from his ordeal.

* * *

Though he couldn't say that he was in high spirits, all the same, Lynn Sr. was a very intrigued man. Unless Lisa's experiments and inventions were creations that she knew would be "parent-approved", Lisa would never purposefully indulge him nor Rita in her latest schemes.

But still, what exactly was…this supposed to be? It looked like a grocery list for words that he didn't have a hope of understanding. The humble, little sheet of printer paper rested in both hands, held in place to allow Lynn Sr. to look over the words again…

And again…

And again…

And…nope. _Still_ nothing. Lynn Sr. sighed and gave up, deciding to just have Lisa explain her list to him.

"Alright, Lisa, what am I looking at?" Lynn Sr. asked, taking a seat on the edge of her bed.

Lisa, who was sitting across from him from her stool, explained, "What're you're looking at are the results of my latest analysis. I could have procured more data after several more days, but what I've produced should be substantial enough to reach one, solitary conclusion."

"Analysis of what, exactly?" Lynn Sr. asked as he put down the list next to him.

"The ingredients and direct food and color additives that this…" Lisa took out a little plastic bag—a label titled "SUBSTANCE #312-1BR" plastered on the surface—from her pocket and held it up for her father to see. "…substance is composed of."

Immediately, Lynn Sr. found himself in awe. "You have a machine that analyzes food ingredients?"

"It's a work in progress," Lisa said, surprisingly sounding quite unimpressed with herself. "So far, it can recognize most-FDA approved additives, but it's still far from my desired final outcome. Regardless, it aided me in my research greatly, even if its proficiency has only amounted to decent headway in a span of three days."

She put the bag on her workbench, then face her father again.

"Anyway, on the day you were banished to the couch, as mother was storming out of the dining room, I couldn't help but spot this morsel falling off her person. Upon examining it up close, a few preliminary inspections gave me reason to believe that it was edible."

It took him a little while to process exactly what Lisa was getting at, but Lynn Sr. reached the conclusion that he presumed that Lisa was suggesting.

"So…you're saying that the crumb came from something that Rita ate?"

"That would be the best interpretation of those initial observations, yes," Lisa said. "Afterwards, I scrutinized the fingerprints on the crumb, which revealed the unique sequence of minisatellites had 99.9% compatibility with those of mother's."

"And what does the analysis say the food was?" Lynn Sr. asked.

"The ingredients and additives I highlighted, specifically the corn syrup, alkali-processed cocoa, polysorbate 60, soy lecithin, and sorbic acid, highly suggest that the food could only come from one specific line of delicacies."

Lynn Sr. watched intently as Lisa hopped off her stool, strolled to her desk, picked up _another_ sheet of paper (Lynn Sr. hoped that he wasn't about to be put on the spot with more terms he didn't have a prayer in knowing), and held it up.

His entire face blanched as the image, in all is high resolution glory, flashed before his eyes.

"Mistress' Chocolate Bobo's," Lisa said. "Original, peanut butter-filled, raspberry filling; the point is, it's very likely that whatever the variation, a crumb of Mistress' Chocolate Bobo's is what I've analyzed."

As if it could be possible, Lynn Sr. paled even further; seeing it was one thing but hearing the idea, the notion that Rita would…would…

 _No way_.

"You're telling me that Rita…t-that Rita could be…"

Words, or rather the steel to finish his sentence, failed him, leaving Lisa to complete the task for him.

"Correct," Lisa said, crumpling up the paper and throwing it over her head. "It appears as though mother is both hoarding _and_ consuming snack food in discretion."

In Lynn Sr., the only thoughts that were possible with him were that this was all some kind of mistake. After all, it wouldn't be the first time Lisa ever made a mistake. Fingerprints? Sure, maybe those could be a little telling, but what was more telling; some test or Rita's dedication? He wasn't one to question cold hard facts, but the will of his wife was far more reliable than a few days of lab work.

Wasn't it?

Lynn Sr. shook his head. "That's impossible. Rita would never…she'd never do that, not after everything she'd done. She wouldn't just-"

"Father, I'm afraid that the data doesn't lie."

In that second, the illusion of his shaky delusions dispersed like a thin cloud of smoke. Lisa's bluntness didn't allow much wiggle room, and her research made the already cramped space feel even tighter.

Dead end. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. And now, if thinking about his wife, the angry tyrant, was difficult to do in reverence, then doing so for Rita, the traitorous hypocrite, made it impossible.

For the first time in days, Lynn Sr. was no longer angry at just himself, and he knew just the person to share his newfound feelings with.

Lynn Sr. made a move to get off the bed and give Rita a piece of his mind, but Lisa was quick to the punch as she ran up to him and held up a hand for him to halt.

"Wait," Lisa said, "We need something more substantial than this. A suggestion, no matter how incriminating, is only a suggestion. We'll need more than that to prove anything, one way or the other."

Lynn Sr., still incensed, allowed for Lisa's interesting proposal to take place as he sat back down without a word. Lisa took a minute to walk over to Lily's crib, pull something out (thankfully, without waking the baby up), and presenting it to her father once she returned to where she previously stood.

"That's why I've constructed this," Lisa explained, holding a lavender pacifier in one hand. "This harmless-looking pacifier has a small camera built in its base. With it being her day off, mother will be staying behind to look after Lily. With her guard down, we should be able to monitor her activity without the fear of being misled by any posturing."

Lynn Sr. didn't even have to think twice about his answer. He wanted to believe that he could always trust his wife, to give her the benefit of the doubt, but that benefit was something that he knew that she didn't deserve to have right now; not when her credibility and maternal instincts were _both_ in a very questionable state.

"Alright," Lynn Sr. said, his face hardened with determination. "We'll do it."

"Excellent," Lisa replied as she adjusted her eyeglasses. "After I've come back from school to study the footage, I'll notify both you and my siblings of what I've discovered. In the meantime, I'll let them know of my findings after they've woken up."

 _That_ much was settled, and Lynn Sr. couldn't find any reason to complain, but the hardest task was just up ahead; pretending that he could see and talk to Rita in any sort of genuine reverence for the rest of the day.

Every emasculating, demoralizing, and humiliating moment came bursting into his mind's eyes, a highlight reel of deceit that was worth it to not only put him on the spot but have the children be miserable.

Lynn Sr. grit his teeth and took measured steps as he exited Lisa and Lily's bedroom, taking care not to pronounce his hurt and anger to the world; there'd be a time and place for that should it be required.

* * *

 _ **LATER THAT AFTERNOON…**_

* * *

Eleven pairs of eyes watched the scene before, the owners of said eyes in a state of disbelief. From what Lisa had promised both her father and her other siblings, it would only be a matter of time before they discovered if their mother was truly eating junk food behind their backs, thanks to the pacifier camera—whose footage was now playing on Lisa's computer while the children and their father looked at it closely. The only one who wasn't with them was Lily, who was taking a nap in the living room.

Although they were all eager to see if Rita was truly eating junk food behind their back, none of them even considered believing that notion. After all, who else but Rita would respect the authority of "Rita's Rules" the most?

Apparently, not even Rita cared to do such a thing as the surveillance footage, which was now showcasing her activity from Lily's perspective from around two hours ago, showed off exactly what she was up to while they were away. From what they could gather, Lily was in Rita's lap while her mother sat on her bed, grabbing intently at the snack cakes and potato chips that Rita was surrounded with as she shoveled handful after handful of snack food into her mouth.

" _Oh, you want one, Lily?"_ Video-Rita teased as Lily made a swipe for the corn chip that she was about to, no doubt, stuff her face with. _"Sorry, but this is grown-up food. Maybe when you start teething, then we'll talk."_

What followed was the crunch of said corn chip as it was raised above the camera's lens, a dead giveaway that Rita had shamelessly eaten it.

At that point, Lisa had had enough. Closing out the video with a look of utter contempt, she turned around in her chair to find, to no surprise, that her siblings looked just as disgusted as she was. The only one who didn't look like he was about to blow his top off was Lynn Sr., who was too shell-shocked to do anything but stare at the now-blank screen with his mouth agape.

"Are you kidding me?!" Luan shouted.

Her cry of disbelief rallied the others to join in the fray.

"How could she?!" Luna cried.

"This is literally the worst thing Mom has ever done, and she made _me_ drink a lentil shake because of my 'lack of iron'!" Lori exclaimed.

"Well, _I_ know what we should do about this!" Lincoln said.

"Does it involve telling Mom off?!" Lynn asked.

"You bet it does!" he replied.

In the blink of an eye, the Loud children formed a mob, spurred on by the desire to relay their frustration and hurt towards their mother. They were quick to rush to the door to make a hasty, anger-fueled exit—

"Hold on, kids."

They all halted in their tracks, turned on their heels, and looked back at Lynn Sr. Though it was clear to them that he was both disappointed and shaken-up from what he had seen, they all interpreted his request in the worst way.

"Dad! You can't be serious! You're _still_ gonna defend Mom, even after everything that she's done?!" Leni cried.

Lynn Sr. shook his head. "No. You're right, Rita needs a serious talking to, but it should be _me_ that does it. Both your mother and I have been giving you children grief these past few days. I shouldn't have even _needed_ that footage to step in before now."

His statement was effective enough to tame the burning fury that kindled in their hearts, but the admittance of his failure inspired them to listen intently to their father's next words.

"I'm sorry I haven't been the respectable father figure that I should've been," he continued as he had his head bowed in shame. "All eleven of you deserve my best, and you're going to be getting it from here on out. I can't ask for your respect back, but, even if I can't get it, I'm going to make things right with her—for everyone's sake. Besides, there are some things that I need to get off my chest that don't exactly involve any of you."

He looked back up and cast them all a stern look, along with a stern tone. "And besides, whether Rita does wrong or not, she's _still_ your mother. I won't approve of any one of you 'telling her off'. Understood?"

By now, none of the ten were half as furious as they were before. While it was true that they were still indignant with their mother's hypocrisy, they were not only happy to see their father take charge but also a little ashamed of themselves for taking such an extreme measure as to angrily berate their own mother.

"We got it, Dad," Lincoln said. "We promise that we won't get in the way."

Lori spoke up next, her hands clasped in front of her as she looked down at the carpet. "And hey, listen, I'm sorry about implying that you were useless the other day. That was way out of line."

Lynn Sr. walked straight to her and titled her head up by the chin with one hand until she was looking directly into his eyes—which, to her relief, showed no malice towards her at all.

"It's fine, Lori," Lynn Sr. said. "I _was_ useless, but I promise that I won't be any longer."

He broke away to look around at the others, a grin sporting his once-somber face. "After this is all over, we'll all celebrate with pizza, _five_ of them in fact. How's that sound?"

Immediately, the forlorn was sucked out of the room like a vacuum as giddy, overlapping requests filled Lynn Sr.'s ears.

"Can one of 'em have triple pepperoni?!" Lana said.

"I want one with pineapple!" Leni said.

"Have one of 'em have extra cheese, if you'd please!" Lola said.

"Can you order one with a lot of tofu?!" Luan said.

The excitable cheering came to a stop as everyone, including an equally as perplexed Lynn Sr., gazed at Luan's bright, smiling face…

…which turned even brighter as she flashed a bigger grin and chuckled. "Just kidding."

* * *

Standing in front of his bedroom door, Lynn Sr. couldn't but recall what had happened a few days ago, right after coming back from work. It all made sense now, Rita's nervousness and apprehension of opening the door right away because of "indecency". She was probably munching down on her sinful snacks and wanted to hide the evidence before he came in.

And he fell right into it. She played him for the fool and without Lisa, without one of his children having to step in and unravel this heinous discovery, he'd continue to _be_ the fool that she needed.

Lynn Sr. expelled a deep breath, wanting to let out as much aggression as he could out of his body before he addressed his wife. Screaming and yelling would make her take notice, but he wanted a chance of rebuilding their relationship back to where it once was, and he didn't like the idea of harsh words making that journey difficult.

Once he felt that he was calm enough to move forward, he rapped his fist against the door, doing so with a little more force than he usually did.

This time, Rita didn't even need to have him wait before opening the door. Despite the awkward tension they had been between them as of late, she still seemed in a good enough mood to smile at him. Lynn Sr. couldn't tell if she was putting on an act to save face or not. Given what he had recently found out, he was willing to bet on the former.

"Hey, honey," Rita chirped.

Lynn Sr. frown grew wider and he folded his arms. "Hello, _Rita_."

The lack of an endearing term for greeting, along with the obvious signs of his annoyance, forced a weary, almost saddened expression on Rita's face.

"Look, I know you're upset about the whole 'couch thing'," she said, "but you'll only have to put up with it for a few more days. I'm sorry, but I had to put my foot down. You know that we both have to be strong for our children."

"Oh, don't worry about that," Lynn Sr. said.

The grin on Rita's face formed once again. "Well, I'm glad to see that you-"

"Because with the way things are, I'm far too angry with you to think about that right now."

Once again, Rita found herself realizing that for reasons she couldn't understand, her husband wasn't very pleased with her. On Lynn Sr.'s end, he thought of his wife's puzzled, perturbed look almost revolting; she was still going to act as if everything was fine?

"What?" Rita asked, her tone clipped by a spark of fear.

Lynn Sr.'s face hardened. "You heard me."

Rita backed up a few steps, almost as if she couldn't stand directly in front of her husband's ire-filled eyes.

"Lynn, what is t-this all about? W-what's the matter with you?" she stammered.

Lynn Sr. covered the distance that she had created, which allowed him to slip into their room and shut the door behind him—all without breaking away from Rita. "So that's it, then."

Along with her slight apprehension came confusion, which manifested on Rita's face in the form of furrowed brows. "What do you mean 'that's it'?"

Lynn Sr. grit his teeth and balled his fists at his side, gestures that made Rita's eyes grow wide. Deep down, he was a little ashamed of making his wife somewhat afraid of him, but he felt that he had to let her know that what he felt was feigned ignorance was _not_ okay.

"You're just going to pretend that everything's okay, that there's no problem?" he asked churlishly.

Rita gulped. "Look, if it's about how harsh I might be, then I'll admit, I understand that it's a tall order for you all to adjust to my rules so quickly, but I just want you to-"

"That's not what I meant."

Rita clamped up immediately and shut her eyes. Lynn Sr. took advantage of her submissiveness to press on without worrying about interruption.

"I'm giving you one chance to come clean with me," he said, planting his fists against his hips. "I want to believe that I can trust you, Rita, so I don't think I need more than one."

And there it was. It was a little underhanded, admittedly, to get her to talk with the "trust" card, but in the face of the underhandedness that Rita had employed, along with her hypocrisy, his tactics didn't make Lynn Sr.'s conscience flinch in the slightest. Despite his stiff, militant appearance, though, Lynn Sr. was trembling on the inside, much like Rita was doing outwardly.

What if tried to weasel her way out? What if she tried to make up another lie to cover her tracks? It would all prove that making appearances meant more to her than being honest when her morality was put in question. If that was the case, then Lynn Sr. didn't know what he would do about _that_.

But after about twenty seconds of tense silence, he no longer had to wait. Rita sighed, walked back to their bed, and sat at the edge. Her head fell in her hands and as she held them in place, Lynn Sr. could see that she still hadn't stopped trembling.

"How long have you known?" she asked.

A pang of relief came over Lynn Sr. but he buried down the urge to celebrate. This still wasn't over yet.

"About what?" he asked.

Along with her trembling came a few sniffles. She was quick to stop and wipe at her eyes, though.

"About my cheating on my diet behind your backs."

 _Hearing_ her say those words nearly stunned Lynn Sr. as much as _seeing_ it for himself. It was almost as if even after baring witness to the incriminating footage, he still couldn't believe that Rita would do something like this.

All the same, the confession was enough to quell his suppressed anger by a huge margin, leaving an inquisitive yearning left in its place.

"That doesn't matter," Lynn Sr. said soft enough to get Rita to look up at him. "What _does_ matter is that I want answers. I deserve that much, at least."

Rita looked like she was about to cry, but was quick to clamp down the urge to start bawling. Lynn Sr. guessed that she didn't think that she deserved to look so pitiful and vulnerable.

"It's because I'm weak," Rita said. "It's true that I threw all our old food out, and I was seriously going to keep it that way, but that night, after trying out my own meal just _once_ , I knew that I couldn't stomach another day of it—at least not without a source of comfort. That's why I went out and bought some more junk food without you or anyone else knowing."

She pointed to the closet in the corner of the room. "I have it stashed right here," she said. "It's all in the back corner of my closet."

Lynn Sr. sidled up to her and sat about a foot away from her, wanting to give her a comfortable distance as she spilled the beans.

"So, you knew your idea couldn't work, but you tried to make it look like you were enjoying it?" Lynn Sr. pressed, his agitation making Rita wince. "Your pride was worth that much to you, to deceive us all while you got to take the easy route?"

Rita sighed. "Like I said, I'm weak. I…I know my idea was rough, but I thought I could take it—not just because it could work for _me_ but because it could get all of you on the right track too."

She took one of her hands and ran her fingers through her hair, leaving several strands stringing out askew.

"But I couldn't even manage to do that," Rita continued. "I know it wasn't fair to all of you, especially since I wasn't committed myself, but I just wanted to feel like I could help you. Even if I couldn't help myself, I could at least sleep at night knowing that my idea could-"

"And there it is."

Rita paused and waited for Lynn Sr. to explain himself.

"'My idea', this. 'My plan', that. You've made all of this about you from the beginning, Rita," Lynn Sr. rebuked. "And the worst part is that I _let_ you. I _let_ you push me aside. I _let_ you treat me like I didn't even matter. You didn't even bother telling me what this new plan of yours was; you decided that despite being your husband, I shouldn't be involved with deciding how this house should be run and how our children should be affected. I wanted for everyone to be happy, you included, but all I did was enable something that made us all miserable."

"But I…"

By the end of her husband's calm tirade, she was quick to deflect, to defend herself from the horrible notion that she would count him out so harshly. But she only allowed the words "But I…" to slip out before she was forced to arrive at one conclusion.

"Y-you're right." Without thinking, she threw herself at Lynn Sr. and hugged him tightly. "You're right. I'm so sorry. I didn't even think about letting you in on anything."

Even though he didn't return the embrace, Rita was still so grateful that he didn't push her away. All the way, her efforts to not look like a person in need of unwarranted sympathy proved futile as soon as she experienced her husband's warmth for the first time in days; tears slipped out of her tears, though she kept her sniffling as silent as possible—Lynn Sr. deserved to have every word of his go off without interruption.

"And let me tell you, Rita, your plan was doomed to fail from the start," Lynn Sr. sternly. "You can't just flip their world upside down and expect them to be happy about it. Having our family eat healthier and be more active is a wonderful goal, but it shouldn't be done at the expense of everyone's happiness. After all, what's the point of having a longer life if we're just going to live every day of it miserable? Doesn't that defeat the purpose?"

Rita shook her head, still weeping. A few errant whimpers snuck out under her breath, and the last one was quickly followed by a surprised gasp—Lynn Sr. had wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in closer.

"Look, if it makes you feel any better, I'm not angry with you anymore," Lynn Sr. said. "Disappointed, yes, but I'm not angry. And part of that has to do with the fact that I can't act like I didn't do anything wrong. But the biggest reason is that I'm glad that you don't look disgusted about listening to me. I know it's wrong for me to think it, but I was afraid that you didn't want to give me the time of day on purpose."

Rita's tears and sniffling, now spent, could respond. "I didn't exactly help you think otherwise," she said with obvious shame. "And look, I'm really sorry about 'Rita's Rules'. They should've been 'Rita and Lynn's Rules', just like they've always been. As of now, they're going out the window. In a couple of hours, I'll be going out to the store and restocking our shelves with what we should've had from the start."

She pulled away a little to look him in the eye again and added, a little smile on her face. "With a few exceptions."

Lynn Sr. raised an eyebrow up at her, which Rita couldn't help but find incredibly adorable.

"I want my children to be healthier, and I'll still strive to do it, but I'm not going to force them to go all out," she said. "I also won't force you to go crazy, either. _I'm_ the one who needs to lose weight, so I'll be the one that makes the necessary changes for my own diet."

Lynn Sr.'s expression shifted into a naughty grin. "That's quite a pity, Rita. I was planning on ordering a few pizzas for us."

Rita returned the cheeky smile. "Weeeeeeeeell…"

"I suppose you'll be thinking of a new diet plan _after_ you have some pizza?" Lynn Sr. finished.

Rita twiddled with her forefingers in mock contemplation. " _Maaaaaaybe_ after four slices."

Their banter left them both in a cackling fit for a good thirty seconds, Lynn Sr. being the last to recover. A somewhat tense thought had crossed Rita's mind, forcing her to regard another problem with the seriousness it deserved.

"Do you think the kids will forgive me?" Rita asked.

Lynn Sr. mulled it over in his head and arrived at an answer that he felt was honest, albeit a bit harsh. Still, if Rita wanted his honest opinion, then that was what she was going to get.

"Hard to tell," he said, "but I'm sure they'll get around to it sooner than you think. After all, they're no longer angry with me. However, if you were to consider a family trip to the county fair, they _might_ forgive you a lot faster."

Rita's face lit up. "I was planning on doing that, anyway, but that sounds like a great idea."

A great idea for certain, Rita thought, but that was a matter that could be handled in the very near future. For now, she was not only ecstatic about finding herself in her husband's good graces again, but that they were now both committed in ensuring that the best eleven things to happen to them would be healthier—physically _and_ mentally.

* * *

 _ **TWO WEEKS LATER…**_

* * *

"You can do it, Rita."

She knows, she knows! That's not going to make the situation any less daunting!

It takes around a full minute for Lynn Sr., who's cozily snug in their bed, to make another teasing remark at Rita's lack of action.

"Come on. It won't bite."

Again, she _knows_!

Rita sighed, knowing that she didn't really have a choice. Two weeks ago, she made another full-fledged commitment to losing weight… _without_ taking shortcuts. Through encouragement and support from her family, Rita was proud to say that she hadn't slipped up once.

But all of that pride, all of that work, would mean nothing if it didn't pay dividends? What if she hadn't lost a single pound after all this time? What if she was even heavier than before? After all, she had pigged out on a lot of junk food half a month ago. Surely, that would catch up to her in some way and…and…

And where was her faith in the people who had not only forgiven her but had gone out of their way to keep her in check for the past fourteen days? Who was she to act as if they didn't make an impact worth evaluating?

Rita squared her shoulders, the beginnings of a fiery resolve kindling from within. She wasn't just going to step on the scale, she'd show it that she was its boss.

The necessary steps were taken, and Rita shut her eyes, waiting for the announcement that she now knew would spell the beginning of a brighter, healthier future.

" _ **148 pounds."**_

Even though it wasn't _that_ much of a grin, it still manifested on Rita's face, all the same.

"Well, it's three pounds off from what I want to be at the _most_ , but at least it's a start," she said.

Slipping the scale underneath the bed, she was quick to join her husband in bed, snuggling up close to allow her head to rest against his chest. Though she kept it to herself, she was rather amused with how hard and fast she could feel his heart beating.

"I can't believe that I didn't have you included with my diet plan from the start," Rita said. "I was right to marry a man that can make beets and radishes taste like heaven when they're cooked in one of your special soups."

Lynn Sr. chuckled while one of his arms draped over his wife and the other was used to turn off the lamp on their nightstand. "Well, I try not to brag."

That remark got him a light little bop on the nose, which he playfully feigned annoyance at in a way that made Rita smile from ear-to-ear. She was thankful that their relationship had gotten back into its usual routine, away from the demeaning and coercing and a general lack of respect.

This was who they were, a loving wife and a loving husband who _both_ wanted the best for themselves and for their children.

"Rita?"

Her eyes looked up and she instantly cherished the decision; there wasn't anything else quite like a loving smile from her somewhat dorky goofball of a husband.

"No matter how much you weigh, you know I love you, right?" he asked.

Her reply was nearly instantaneous and even more so genuine. "Of course, and despite everything that's happened, I want you to know that I love you too."

With that, no more words were needed between them. All that was left to do was lie in bed in silence, relishing in their mended union and the gentleness that their embrace inspired.

Before drifting off to sleep, the final thing that was left to stir in her mind's eye was how blown away her husband would be once he saw the new cowgirl costume she had ordered yesterday. After all, what was a sheriff without his partner?

* * *

 **A/N:** You know, now that I think about it, seeing as how it's October the 2nd, I suppose you could call this a birthday gift for Chris Savino. So, uh…yeah. Happy Birthday, Mr. Savino! If you're reading this, Cowgirl!Rita is a must for Season 3!

Anyway, I hope you found this conclusion most satisfying. Again, sorry about being a tad bit late with this. But, as they say, but late than never. ;)


End file.
